Page 34 of Absolutely Not in Love
The only article of clothing in the laundry basket, aside from my underwear, is my pair of yoga shorts, but they’re way too booty-ish for me to just wear them around, so I put them on as a base layer, then pull on the sweatpants Felix left for me. They are laughably huge, but they have a drawstring that I’m able to cinch tight. Once I roll the waistband a few times, they at least feel functional, if not flattering.
I hold up the Loyola University T-shirt and pull it to my nose. It smells so good—like clean laundry and something else uniquely Felix. The fabric is buttery soft, like it’s been washed and worn a thousand times. When I pull it on, I almost shiver from the softness.
This is a perfect T-shirt. I want to think that opinion doesn’t have anything to do with the actualmanwho loaned it to me, but the longer I’m in this apartment, the less certain I feel.
It’s been a battle to keep myself from developing an interest in Felix even when we were only talking in the hallway. But now? Surrounded by his lovely things and basking in his generosity?
My defenses are waving a white flag of surrender and giving up the fight.
The shower warmed me up pretty well, but I am a woman who loves a good hoodie, so I can’t help but pull on the soft, navy one Felix left. I wonder if it’s intentional that nothing he left me to wear has anything to do with hockey. No jerseys. No sign of an Appies logo anywhere.
Based on how thoughtful he’s been so far, it wouldn’t surprise me if it was.
I toss my hair into a messy bun and frown at my complexion. Even Felix’s perfect bathroom isn’t stocked with makeup, which—that’s a relief now that I think about it.
I’ve never seen women coming and going from Felix’s apartment, but the thought of finding makeup in his bathroom sends an irrational wave of jealousy moving through me.
I don’t like what that jealousy means. Or that I suddenly care about how basic my bare face and oversized clothes look.
Still, there’s no way I’m wading through my water-logged apartment to my own bathroom, so this will have to be good enough.
Finally dressed, and feeling very much like a small child wearing a giant’s clothes— wonderfully soft clothes that smell like absolute heaven—I make my way into the living room.
Felix is nowhere to be found, which means he’s probably next door dealing with my apartment. I head that way, casting a fleeting look at his bookshelves. It doesn’t seem fair to dawdle, butoh,to run my hands over those shelves.
Soon,I think. Even if I have to make up a reason to come over, I’ll come back to visit these shelvessoon.
I step into my living room and hear Felix’s voice, but I can’t see him. He must be around the corner in the hallway.
“Yeah, no I get that. You’re right,” he says, a slight edge to his tone. “Ididknow the pipes needed to be replaced.” He breathes out a sigh. “But the plumber told me—” His words cut off quickly, like whoever he’s speaking to isn’t giving him much room to talk.
I bite my lip. Felix said he was going to call his dad, but it doesn’t sound like he’s enjoying the conversation.
“Yes, sir. I understand,” Felix says. “I’ll remember that for next time.”
I don’t want to eavesdrop, but if I move to where Felix can see me, I’ll be standing in water. Instead, I turn and open my front door a few inches, trusting the sound of the heavy metal door sliding in its track will alert him to my presence.
Sure enough, Felix pops around the corner, eyebrows raised. His eyes run up and down my body, making my skin flush with heat. His lips lift into a small smile, and he holds up his finger, clearly telling me he’ll just be a minute.
While I wait, my eyes drift around my apartment, suddenly making comparisons I’ve never thought to make before.
It felt like astealwhen I signed my lease agreement. It’s not overly flashy, but it has all new appliances—even if the stove has been acting up—new fixtures in the bathroom, and it’s clean and full of natural light. On my limited salary, livinganywhereby myself is an accomplishment, so this place felt like a dream come true. If my place were as big as his, I’d never be able to afford it. But it’s still hard not to look around my small space and feel…I don’t know. Inadequate, maybe?
I quickly dismiss the thought as silly. I’m not ashamed of what I do. I knew I wasn’t setting myself up for wealth when I chose my profession, and I’ve always been fine with that. But in light of Felix’s obvious wealth, I can’t help but wonder what he thinks when it comes to my career and my very limited income.
“Sorry about that,” he says as he steps into the living room, slipping his phone into his pocket. “How was the shower? Did you find everything you needed?”
“It was perfect. And thanks for the clothes, too.”
His eyes rove over me appreciatively for a second time. “You make them look better than I do.”
I roll my eyes, but my skin prickles with awareness. He can’t truly be serious, but clearly, my body’s sarcasm meter is completely broken. Either that or I just really like the way it feels to have Felix look at me with that soulful, steady gaze.
“So, um, what’s the word on the apartment?” I ask. “What do we do?”
A flash of frustration moves across Felix’s expression, but it only lasts a second before shifting into something much more neutral. “A disaster repair company is on its way over right now. They’ll take care of removing the water and assessing the damage. Then I’ll get the plumbing replaced, make any necessary repairs to the walls and floors, and replace any of your furniture that was ruined. Your mattress and your dresser, for sure. It’ll be easier to judge what else we’re up against once the water’s gone.”
“Well, but you won’t have to do all that. I have renter’s insurance. I’m sure it will cover the damage to my belongings.”
