Page 9 of Fostering Chemistry
His smile was understanding. Then a sound in the hallway made us both look up.
A young man, someone new, came into view.
“Hey, Cody,” Aaron called. “Can you give us a hand?”
But the young man had on large earphones and didn’t seem to hear him. His gaze was pointed down, but I still got a quick glimpse of his almost bronze hair. It was shaved on the sides and high on the top. His face looked like it had been chiseled out of marble. A sharp jawline. A Roman nose. Full lips and high cheek bones.
Then he was gone, and I stared at the spot he’d been in a second before. Something about him had triggered a flicker of recognition. Maybe I’d seen him around campus? Or maybe he just looked like a hundred other young men wearing headphones I passed by every day. He’d been wearing a light gray hoodie and jeans—again, very common among college students.
Though most of the guys in my classes didn’t look like that, like a model or something.
As the faint sound of Cody jogging up the stairs echoed down the hallway, I tried to shake the brief glimpse from my mind. But two questions kept floating through my head—where I might have seen him before, and what color were his eyes?
“He’s a good guy, just often in his own world.” Aaron sat up straighter, gazing at the mattress. “I think we can do this on our own.”
I laughed as we both stood. “Since when?”
“Since we couldn’t get anyone else to help.”
Our second attempt ended with me trapped between the bed and the wall, the heavy mattress pushing heavily against my thighs. The third attempt ended with Aaron crashing into the desk.
After that, it dawned on us to move the desk out of the way, and that helped. “Now we’re on the right track,” Aaron said.
“Fourth time’s a charm.” In truth, though, I was beginning to wonder if I’d have to sleep on the floor tonight.
Still, this attempt had promise. The mattress was standing upright on its side—but on the floor, not the bed. Consequently, it hadn’t taken out the ceiling fan or vice versa.
“What’s next?” My arms were tired, and my side ached even though Aaron had been doing the heavy lifting. “Can we just lean it against the box spring, then lift the bottom end up until it falls into place?”
“Sure, if we want you to be sleeping in the indentation again.” Aaron wiped the back of his hand over his forehead. He was probably really regretting offering his help.
For a moment, he was silent. Then he snapped his fingers. “I’m going to pull it toward the door, so we’ll have space to rotate it. You just hold that end upright.”
That seemed doable, since the mattress was already balanced on its side.
He crouched down, grasped both sides of the mattress, and pulled it toward the door. But he backed right into the dresser, causing him to swear and the lamp on the dresser to take a nosedive.
Somehow, he caught the cord before it smashed to the ground, but the lampshade detached and rolled right through the open door into the hallway, where neither of us could get to it at the moment.
That set us both laughing, which didn’t make the task any easier.
General chaos followed, with Aaron issuing random orders. “Stand on the right side. No, my right. Okay, now grab that handle. No, the other one. And stop laughing! If we’re not careful, we’re going to end up permanently entombed between the mattress and the box spring.”
“Like a dust ruffle,” I said, laughing harder.
But then, after what felt like decades later, the mattress was in position, upright next to the box spring again, but this time with the right side up. Hopefully. “Do we just push it over?”
“Yes.” Aaron sounded like he was trying to sound certain. “On the count of three.”
After the countdown, we both pushed, but the mattress resisted. I leaned my whole body against it, pushing with my shoulder.Finally it gave, sloping over like a felled tree. The bottom edge rose up—taking me with it.
I yelped as I fell forward. Aaron sprang toward me, and we both tumbled onto the mattress at the same time. We crashed into each other, our limbs tangling together. Aaron’s body was a collection of hard planes and muscles.
“Ow,” I said as my head hit his shoulder, and I rolled flat onto my back. In his scramble not to crush me, he ended up hovering over me in a pushup position. Which didn’t make me feel like laughing anymore.
He wasn’t either. Instead, he stared down at me.
My pulse quickened as his gaze dropped to my lips. I couldn’t help looking at his firm jawline edged by that sexy stubble. Did I want him to kiss me?
