Page 8 of Taking Care of You
Spinning in a slow circle, I take it all in while he rummages under the cabinet, then in a linen closet that’s next to the sinks. He hands me the toothbrush, still in the plastic, a travel-size toothpaste that’s still in the box, and a washcloth that smells like lavender. “You can take a shower too, if you want.I don’t have clothes that fit you, but I have drawstring shorts?” He’s concentrating, like he’s trying to mentally go through his wardrobe.
Putting him out of his misery, I shake my head. “No, this is fine. I’ll shower when I get home.”
“Okay. You can either sit in my room and wait for me while I shower or go back to the living room. My parents are off today, but they’re nice. They won’t bite.” He winks at me and saunters out, leaving me to stand in the middle of the bathroom with a flaming hot face because he winked at me. I’m fucking pathetic.
I really do need to get ahold of this crush. Even though we only hung out for the first time last night, I want this friendship to last. It won’t if he thinks I’m pining after him. I can just be his friend.
Sighing, I walk over to the sink and clean myself up. I’m so glad he gave me a toothbrush. It would have been embarrassing trying to talk to him on the way to my house with morning breath.
He didn’t tell me what to do with the cloth when I was done, so I fold it and leave it on the counter.
Even though he said his parents are nice, I don’t know them. I wouldn’t feel comfortable sitting in the living room, trying to make awkward small talk, so I head to his room to wait for him. He was right last night—I wouldn’t have wanted to stay in the living room alone, even when he was only getting his phone charger.
My face heats again as I think about how I judged him so harshly last night. I shouldn’t assume every guy wants to trick me to get into my pants just because they drink. Not everyone is like…him.I shouldn’t have put that on Ethan. He didn’t deserve it.
There’s an armchair in his massive room, so I take a seat. I think sitting on his bed would be…too intimate.
I take a good look around, since I don’t have anything else to do. He has a typical guy’s room—king-sized bed with a dark blue and gray comforter, a large TV mounted to the wall across from his bed, a desk in the corner that’s a mess of papers and textbooks, and his shoes line the wall. I’m sure he has more in his closet. His clothes are tossed everywhere, but his room is so big that it doesn’t look dirty, just a little messy.
It's nice and comfortable. I could see us hanging out in here. It would be nice, I think.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I see that Crystal texted me a few times. I open the thread and groan. I have some explaining to do.
Crystal: You get home safe?
Crystal: Good morning. You awake?
Crystal: Open the door, I’m outside.
Crystal: Where the hell are you?!
Her last textcame through only an hour ago.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. I text her back, telling her I’m on the way home and instead of texting me, she calls. I groan louder this time, but I answer on the third ring. “Hey.”
“Hey? Just hey? Koby, where are you? Are you okay? Do I need to come get you?”
I chuckle a little. “No, Crys. I’m fine. I’m coming home now.”
She’s quiet for a moment then she whispers, “Did someone try that bullshit again? Was it?—”
"No." I say, cutting her off before she can say his name. I hate hearing his name. “No. Nothing like that. I’ll tell you later, okay?” Ethan chooses that moment to walk out of his en suitebathroom with no shirt on. I have to slam my mouth shut and avert my eyes. “I’ll call you later.” I hang up before Crystal can say anything and I lower my head.
Even though I dropped my eyes fairly quickly, I got a good look at him bare-chested. Jesus. I’ve never seen him with his shirt off and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get the image out of my head.
He’s built—defined pecs, nice abs, that nice, sexy V that dips into the hem of his shorts. I force myself to shake the image away.Friends.We are friends. I can’t stare at him like that.
“You okay?” He asks, his voice a bit closer than I thought it would be. I open my eyes and he’s only a few feet away from me, with a shirt on, thankfully. I nod and he holds his hand out to me. I grab it and he pulls me up from his armchair. The feel of his hand in mine is too good for words.
This friend shit is harder than I thought.
“You sure?” he asks, looking concerned. I nod again, taking my hand back and stuffing it into my pocket. He gives me a once-over, then nods himself. “Okay. I’m ready if you are.”
The drive to my house is the polar opposite of our walk to his. Ethan talks the entire time, but I don’t mind. He has a nice voice and he’s weirdly funny. He’s the type of person that says whatever he’s thinking. He laughs at his own jokes, even if they’re not funny.
I laugh, though. Not those pity laughs you give someone to spare their feelings. Genuine laughs. Who’d have thought it was possible?
When he turns down on my street, I tense. We live in two different worlds. I don’t want him to look down on me because of my address. Ethan doesn’t seem the type, but you never know.
