Page 136 of The Rom-Commers

“Youlooked!” Charlie said, like I was a cheater.

“Youyelped!” I countered, like he was a troublemaker.

“I was fine.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Close your eyes again,” Charlie commanded.

“Put your shirt on,” I commanded back.

But I closed them. And waited. Poutily.

By the time Charlie arrived in front of me with a set of sweats for me to use, I was semi-determined to never open them again.

“It’s fine now,” Charlie said.

“I don’t trust you.”

By the time I finally peered out through my lashes, Charlie waswearing a hooded sweatshirt printed with the wordsI’D RATHER BE WITH MY IMAGINARY FRIENDS.

“Who’s that quote by?” I asked, dropping all pretense and frowning.

“Me, actually,” Charlie said. “I said it to my sister at a family dinner once, and she got it printed on a hoodie.”

Then he held up the one he’d grabbed for me:WRITERS DO IT ON THE PAGE.

I met his eyes, likeSeriously?

Charlie shrugged. “My sister keeps giving me writer-themed workout gear.”

“That one is… humiliating,” I said.

“I agree,” Charlie said, pulling me up into a standing position so we could get started. “But it’s fleece-lined.”

I was shivering too much to argue. “Fine.”

“Here,” he said, holding out the set.

But I shook my head. “I’m too cold.”

“You won’t warm up until you’re dry,” Charlie said.

Iwasshaking. That much I knew for sure.

Charlie must have looked at this wet, shaking, still-drunk human in front of him and decided we had nothing more than a medical situation on our hands. He didn’t hesitate. “I’m going to help you, okay?” he said.

“Help me do what?”

“Change.”

“What! No!”

“Look,” Charlie said. “You can’t stay like this.”

“I’ll do it,” I said, reaching out a shaky arm for the hoodie.

But then, I dropped it. We both looked down at where it landed.

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