Page 26 of Hold the Pickle
Better to say nothing. I move into the bathroom and close the door.
It’s steamy from Dalton’s shower. I breathe in the warm air and the smell of his herbal bath wash.
His bottles rest on the edge of the tub. I take a moment to rearrange mine so there is room for his.
The mirror is obscured, so I wipe it down with my towel. I notice his laundry bag hanging on the back of the door.
It’s not my space but both of ours. It might be small, but we’ll have to figure things out.
Like sleeping.
I remove all the makeup and twist my hair into a quick bun. By the time I’m ready for bed, it’s almost six a.m. and I’m exhausted. I’m the one who’s been up for twenty-four hours now.
But I have nothing to do today. And we have blackout curtains, something I picked up immediately, knowing Dalton would be sleeping at odd hours.
When I come out, he’s sitting on the sofa. He looks up, and the heat of his gaze touches my legs, face, and the shirt where my braless nipples are poking the fabric.
I feel almost as naked as he was, but the way heat pools in me tells me my reaction is almost as strong as his was earlier when I saw him. His was just more obvious.
This is a problem. It’s one thing to room with a stranger. It’s another thing entirely to feel an attraction to him.
I have to knock it off.
“I’m pretty tired,” I tell him.
“I have errands,” he says. “And I want to go for a run before it gets hot.”
I drag my blue comforter over to the bed. He’s already removed his Transformer blanket. “Do you always shower before you run?”
He doesn’t answer, and I wonder if I’ve caughthimin a white lie.
This will never do.
I toss my bedding onto the mattress. “Look,” I say.
“Hey,” he says at the same moment.
We both laugh a little.
“You first,” he says.
I sit on the bed. “I think we need to accept that there will be occasional awkwardness.”
“Agreed,” he says.
“But we also need to be honest about things.”
He frowns. “Okay.”
“You don’t have to make up some excuse to get out of my way. And I won’t make up any to get out of yours.” I look up at the ceiling. “Maybe we can string up some sort of curtain so we can both be here when one of us is sleeping.”
“That’s a good idea.”
“And we should agree that we shouldn’t put ourselves out to avoid the other one. We have to co-exist here.”
“Agreed.”
“So don’t feel like you need to go anywhere,” I tell him.
