I unwrapped my arms from his neck and tried to do the
same with my legs, but he clutched me close. 'Don't go
yet.'
The fucking was done. We used to spoon sometimes after
sex, in the bed we'd shared. In the dark. That was when
we talked the most, after the fucking was done.
I didn't want to talk to Austin now. With my body sated,
my mind wanted to block out the feelings he always
brought up in me. I pushed at his chest, and he let me go.
I went to the bathroom before he could say anything else. I
turned on the shower and got in without waiting for it to
turned on the shower and got in without waiting for it to
heat. Austin didn't come into the bathroom until steam had
veiled it. I heard him use the toilet, then run water in the
sink. I heard him fil my glass and set it down a moment
later. I waited for him to open the curtain and come in, but
though I was prepared to tel him to get out, Austin left the
bathroom.
He was dressed and sitting at the smal desk in my corner
by the time I came out, wrapped in a towel. He was too
big for my chair and that desk, another old piece I'd
inherited from my grandma. He was too big for me.
He looked up when I came in, and I saw he wasn't just
sitting there. He held my cel phone in one hand, the screen
flipped open. I hadn't heard it ring.
'What are you doing?'
Austin slowly closed my phone and set it on the desk. He
stood. He was too big for my room, too.
I wished I'd taken the time to pul on my robe. A towel
didn't seem adequate protection against the way he was
looking at me. I grabbed for my nightgown, but it had
tangled in itself when I threw it on the floor, and I couldn't
tangled in itself when I threw it on the floor, and I couldn't
easily slide it over my head.
'You got a message,' Austin said. 'While you were in the shower.'
'Since when are you alowed to listen to my messages?' I
yanked the cotton into place and tugged it over my head.
With it covering my face, I closed my eyes, wishing when I
opened them I'd discover this was al an inconvenient
dream.
'A text message,' he said.
I yanked the nightgown down on my shoulders and glared.
'Since when are you alowed to read my messages?'
I stalked to the desk and grabbed up my phone but didn't
look to see who'd caled. I cradled it to my chest, though,
the metal chil through the cotton. Austin didn't move.
'Wel?' I demanded. 'What the hel, Austin? Who the hel do you think you are?'
'Apparently, I'm nobody,' he said.
I'd braced myself for anger, or accusations. A message
