“Cool.” We look at each other and a lengthy silence ensues. I foist the blankets towards him. “So here you go.”
“Hey, do you mind if I take a quick shower before I turn in? The guy in the elevator with us was hacking up a lung and I’d hate to give you swine flu on my first night.”
“Sure,” I answer, crossing my arms. “You know, you really are as odd as I remember.”
“I’m usually not. I think you bring it out in me.”
“I get that a lot.”
“And speaking of me being odd, I have one more small request.”
“Oh, boy,” I say, “let’s have it.”
“Would you mind if I lowered the thermostat at night? I have trouble sleeping unless my room is super cold. Duke doesn’t do well in the heat either.”
“Okay,” I answer, walking over and checking the thermostat beside my bedroom door. “It’s already set to sixty-eight.”
“Yeah, I’m thinking more like sixty-two.”
My eyes go wide. “Damn, Elsa. That’s really cold. How do you live in North Carolina?”
“It’s not easy.” Ryan chuckles. “I have central air but my electric bill is out of control. When it’s hot at night I just feel like the whole room is stuffy and I toss and turn and I’m in a bad mood the next day... It’s just no good all around.”
“Can’t have that, then,” I say, adjusting the temperature. “Into the arctic we go.”
“Are you sure it’s not a problem?”
“Very sure. Sweatshirts and sweaters are my second skin anyways.”
“Nice,” Ryan says, soft and with a smile. A warm quiet fills the room despite the descending temperature until he goes on, “So, about the shower?”
My mind floods with imaginative visuals. Ryan naked in my bathroom. Ryan naked in my shower. Ryan naked and wrapped in one of my towels.
I whirl around and walk back to the kitchenette. “Yeah, go ahead.” I make myself look busy by opening the refrigerator. The additional cool air has a calming effect.
Once the bathroom door closes, I turn to make sure Ryan is out of sight. Seeing he’s gone, I slam the refrigerator shut and power-walk over to the mirror that’s hanging above my couch. I take in my flushed reflection and tuck my hair behind my ears.
I then turn once again to survey the room. Everything is as it should be and Duke is now sitting on my reading chair like it’s his throne.
“Are you enjoying New York so far?” I ask him.
He gives me a brief glance that tells me he would prefer it if I didn’t disrupt his reverie. Not wanting to push my luck by petting him while he’s in his Zen state, I opt to sit on the couch, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV.
I’m ten minutes deep into my favorite Bravo reality show when I notice the shower water is no longer running. I immediately try to settle into a casual seated pose and focus on the screen—but that proves difficult when Ryan walks out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a deep gray towel.
His hair is pushed back and off his face, dripping small droplets of water onto his shoulders and his cut chest. He’s fit but not overly so, looking athletic but not like one of those guys who goes to the gym at an extreme level and has bulging muscles.
He’s a guy you just know will have an amazing dad-bod someday. Like, when he takes his kids to the beach, moms will look at him and think...maybe he trained for the Olympics at some point in his younger life. I mean, he probably didn’t get into the Olympics, but still, maybe he participated in the qualifying rounds.
“Sorry, I left my bag out here,” Ryan says.
“I’ll get it.” I push up off the couch and grab the bag, which is a couple feet away. A second later, I’m standing directly across from Ryan’s half-naked body.
This is totally fine. Completely normal.
I reach out to pass the bag over, and as I do, his hand brushes against mine.
In one of my books, I could milk a hand graze for at least a page, but in reality, I’m not sure if the contact holds any weight at all.
“Thanks,” Ryan says with a smile before walking back into the bathroom. He shuts the door and I cover my face with both of my hands.
Pull yourself together! This is business!
I take a breath and am the picture of composure when Ryan walks back into the living room a couple minutes later, wearing navy basketball shorts and a white short-sleeved undershirt. He looks...gross. I’m choosing to believe he looks gross.
“Are you hungry? We can order something if you want.”
“No, thanks,” he says. “I’m pretty tired so I think I’ll just crash.”
“Sounds like a good idea.” I walk past him as he heads for the couch and turn back around to face him once I’m standing in my bedroom doorway. “So, does Duke go into the bathroom now or will he meander in later?”
“He’ll stay with me for a bit, then head in when he’s ready to sleep.”
“Got it. Can I ask why you brought him with you to New York? Wouldn’t it have been easier to get a dog-sitter and leave him home?”
“That would have been way more convenient, but Duke has a ton of separation anxiety. I went on an overnight business trip once and he went nuts even though my mom was staying with him at my place. He wouldn’t sleep and he peed all over the floor, which he never does.”
“Oh, no,” I say, my heart aching. “That’s awful.”
“Yeah, he was a rescue, so we know he came from a bad situation. He’s much better now, but sometimes his past comes back to haunt him.”
My gaze falls to the ground as I think to myself that I know the feeling. When I look back up, Ryan is watching me with understanding eyes. I shift around by the door and take a quick breath as I
