Page 69 of So This Is War
“Yeah, sure.”
I hear him move into the bathroom and click the door shut. I shove the laundry in the washer and then grab my phone.
Wylie:He’s frazzled, Sandie. He has stared at my breasts at least a half dozen times since he’s come home.
Luckily, Sandie is quick to text me back.
Sandie:Excellent. *Insert evil laugh* What’s he doing now?
Wylie:Taking a shower.
Sandie:Seems to me like you need to walk in there and ask him a question.
Wylie:OMG, should I?
Sandie:If we’re conducting erotic torture, then yes, you need to walk in there while he’s soaping up.
Wylie:And this is why we’re friends. I’ll report back.
I pocket my phone, and with some mustered-up courage, I open the bathroom door.
“Uh, hello?” he asks.
“Hey, just me,” I say casually, helping myself in.
“Can I help you?” he asks, his back toward me. The shower is foggy so I can’t see anything other than his silhouette. Shame. I was hoping to see a little ass at least.
“Just came in to grab your underwear. I assume you want this washed as well.”
“Sure,” he says in a tense voice.
“Oh, and I checked on the food. Should be here in the next twenty minutes.”
“Yup, that’s great.”
“I can set it up on your favored placemat if you want. Dining room or kitchen island?”
“Kitchen island is fine,” he answers, not moving.
“Sounds good. Can I get you anything else?”
“Just some privacy,” he says through clenched teeth.
“Oh.” I laugh. “Sorry about that.” I grab his underwear and head toward the door. “Enjoy your shower.”
And then I leave, smiling brightly to myself. Yup, this is going to be a lot of fun.
“Ooo, you smell amazing,”I say as I walk by a freshly showered Levi, who is now wearing a pair of shorts and a simple heather gray T-shirt with an Agitators logo on the front. The sleeves strain around his biceps and chest while the torso clings to his muscled body. I lean into him. “Is that your soap or cologne?”
He clears his throat as he takes a seat at the island. “Soap.”
“Wow. It’s amazing,” I say as I let my hand drag over the contours of his back before I move to the fridge to grab him a drink. “Would you like a soda?”
He’s silent for a second, and when I look over my shoulder, his eyes revert from my ass to me. “You, uh, you don’t have to serve me, Wylie.”
“Oh, I don’t mind. I’ll grab you a Diet Coke.” I grab one for myself as well and take a seat next to him at the island, but I angle my body to face him and rest my feet on the rung of his chair. “Here you go.” I slide the soda over to him, not really giving him any space from me. “Hope you don’t mind if I eat here with you. I hate when my little bedroom smells like food. Stinks up my clothes. Also, we can catch up.”
“Sure, yeah, you can eat here.”
