Nash silently volunteers to wash up, while Christopher dries and puts things away.It’s quickly become an alarmingly domestic kind of evening.It’s nice but a little unnerving.A little too familiar, maybe.
‘Perhaps we should get an early night,’ Christopher says, glancing at his watch.‘I’m bushed and you must be too.’
‘I’m bushed,’ laughs Nash in his bad impression of Christopher.‘You’re what?A bush?Are bushes known for being tired here?All your topiary is wilting from exhaustion?’
Thank God.That feels better.It feels as if some of the hot energy got let out of him.
‘All right, fair.I guess that one doesn’t make sense.’Christopher gets up to grab his pile of blankets from the other side of the room.
And before he realises what he’s saying, Nash hears the following words come out of his mouth.‘We should just share your bed.’
Christopher’s entire face immediately goes bright red.Oh good, he’s being weird about it.
‘Calm down.I just mean, I don’t take up all the bed, and it’s silly for you to try and sleep on that couch again.You look like an adult trying to sleep in a kid’s bed.It can’t be comfortable.And seeing as you’re the designated driver in this partnership,’ – he tries to ignore the hitch in his chest at thatword – ‘I’d rather you were well rested so that you don’t, you know, murder us both on the tiny roads here.’
Still red, Christopher ponders this, gnawing at his bottom lip.
‘We can do a line of pillows down the centre if you’re that worried,’ Nash sighs, walking to the bedroom.
‘That’s not necessary.I’ve shared a bed before.’
Nash swears he can hear the gulp in Christopher’s voice.
‘Good for you.’
He splutters.‘With Haf, I was trying to say.Platonic bed-sharing.’
It’s kind of cute how embarrassed this man gets about sharing space.Maybe what Nash needs is to take back some of the power this evening.He’s been vulnerable and talked about all the seizure stuff.And clearly this sharing a bed business bothers Christopher in a way that Nash doesn’t want to exploretoodeeply.
So instead, he whips off his jumper.
And with it goes his shirt.
It’s amazing to see someone’s skin change colour so rapidly, but Christopher’s cheeks morph from their already slightly embarrassed strawberry pink to scarlet red.
And he practically throws himself into the bathroom, yelling a series of words that Nash is pretty sure were about brushing his teeth.
Holding the jumper to his mouth, Nash cackles loudly.That was worth it.If he’s honest with himself, Nash kind of likes how nervous he can make Christopher.
It’s ...kind of cute.
Chapter Fifteen
Christopher
Once he’s safely ensconced in the bathroom, several thoughts run through Christopher’s head at once.
The first is whether it’s possible for a person to safely live in a bathroom for several days, just long enough for the snow to melt and for Nash to leave.Sure, there’s no food and sleeping in the bathtub is going to be hell, but he could put up with that.Of course, it’s a one-bathroom flat, so unless Nash is going to have flannel washes in the café bathroom, there’s going to be some serious logistical issues with this plan.But he can’t face him again.Not after the way he just sprinted away from him.
The second thought is, how can a person go quite so pink?Is it some kind of heinous medical condition he wasn’t aware of, or is it, as he fears, just a side effect of being a total dork.His cheeks are aflame, and the heat runs down his whole body – twitchy and nervous and horrible.And that was just from a torso!
A normal, nice torso.
Well, notnice.And notnotnice either.
Christ.
It’s not as if it’s the first time he’s ever seen a guy topless, for heaven’s sake.He’s seen plenty of bare torsos in his time – during rugby at school and also any time he’s been near a pool or a beach.Or whenever the temperature in the UK gets over 25 degrees, when all thetopless-but-still-wearing-jeansmen seem to appear from nowhere, ready to baffle everyone in their wake.
