Page 47 of Boyfriend of the Hour
Nathan looked utterly confused. “When would I have heard you?”
My face blazed. “I, uh, well, I’ve beentoldI can be kind of loud.”
Nathan continued to blink.
“While doing it,” I elaborated.
Still no response.
“The deed. Sex. Fuck-ing.” Lord, I really couldn’t help myself.
Recognition finally flashed through those chocolatey browns. “Oh.” His cheeks flushed along with the tip of his nose, and I was rewarded with what it looked like tofinallyperturb Dr. Nathan Hunt.
He would have looked adorable if I wasn’t mortified myself.
“I—no,” he said finally. “I wasn’t home that night. I worked late and went to the gym early, so I didn’t return until you…woke up, I suppose.”
It should have helped, knowing he wasn’t here to listen in on the drunken, almost-sex I’d had with his former roommate. But somehow, it didn’t. I wanted nothing more than to wipe the entire memory away.
“Well, Arvin?—”
“Aiden,” Nathan corrected me, like he almost couldn’t help it.
“Is an idiot,” I completed. “This apartment is amazing.”
That almost-smile returned. “I’m glad you like it. Would you like me to show you the rest of it, or did you?—”
“Please,” I interrupted. “I, um, didn’t see much last time.”
Nathan blinked as my cheeks heated all over again. In the mirror, I had turned the color of a very ripe tomato.
“Okay,” Nathan said as if I’d only commented on the weather that day. “Well, follow me.”
It wasn’t a long tour. I followed him past the living room and the eat-in kitchen, then through a formal dining room with the same river-front views. From there, the hallway split between two bedrooms, a luxe bathroom in the middle that was bigger than my entire bedroom at Nonna’s.
“Eventually, I’ll find a way to add a second bathroom, but for now, we’ll have to share,” Nathan told me.
“Oh, I’mverygood at sharing a bathroom,” I said as I explored the not-so-small space. The free-standing bathtub looked like a giant egg, and there was enough room that I could walk all the way around it before peeking into the two-person shower. “We only had one between six kids when I was growing up, and I always got the last of the hot water. I take the shortest showers in human history. You won’t even know I’m in here.”
“I doubt that.” When I turned, Nathan looked visibly uncomfortable, keeping his eyes everywhere but on me. “And there is plenty of hot water. You can take however long you need.”
It was a far cry from the shabby little house where I’d grown up or the bedroom I’d shared with Marie for almost twenty years. Nor did it in any way resemble the sardine-can situations so many of my friends had with two, three, or four roommates.
It was a grown-up’s apartment. Tastefully decorated with classic furniture and shades of green, taupe, and white that was like a modernized take on the building’s twenties vibe. It had things like a laundry room and linen closets and rugs that fit the rooms properly. A real home with stuff that wasn’t purchased off Marketplace or dragged off a curb.
“Does it meet your standards?” Nathan asked when I followed him back to the bedrooms. “Have everything you need?”
“Are you kidding? It’s giving Gatsby. The Baz Luhrmann version, but without all the gold. It’s gorge.”
Nathan tipped his head. “You do know that was originally a book, right?”
I shrugged, slightly embarrassed. Frankie was the reader in the family, not me.
“Well, this is your room.” Nathan gestured toward the open door next to us.
I peeked into the bedroom where I’d slept literally one week earlier. Unlike the rest of the apartment, it was completely empty, painted white, with two windows that looked out onto the corner of West Seventh-Sixth Street and Riverside Drive. Nathan’s room—the only room I hadn’t seen yet—probably looked out to the river.
“You don’t think it’s kind of weird?” I said without thinking. “I was literally here a week ago doing…you know.”
