"Hey, sorry," I start. "I just wanted to make sure you found the towels okay."
I hear her let out a slight sigh of disappointment. "No, I looked, and I didn't see any. I was actually just coming to ask."
My heart thuds against my chest. "There's a cabinet in my closet. The towels are located in the second drawer." I instruct, still holding myself to the control I have to not turn to look at her.
"I'll be honest, I thought about going that route, but I really don't feel comfortable just opening up all your drawers."
I listen to the crack in her voice, it's not one of fear or sadness, but again, that nervous emotion takes over.
"Are you dressed?" I ask, and though the water is still spraying in the background, it seems like all the noise has drowned out while I wait for her answer.
"No," she says, and I can't help the way my body reacts. Specifically, my dick. "Let me just put my clothes back on."
"No," I say. "Just, jump in the shower and I can get into my closet." I don't know why I offer this. I should have just let her get dressed so that I can get in and outwithout a chance of anything inappropriate. But I hear her feet pad away and then I hear the glass door to the shower open and shut.
I turn to see the steam filter out of the open door from the hot water. I take a deep breath, and head in. I grab a towel from the top of the folds out of the drawer and hesitantly turn around. My shower doors are a frosted glass, so hardly anything can be seen visibly through, but as I turn around to leave the towel for her, I hear her humming and I can't help but look.
I see the outline of her body; I hate myself for wanting to watch her movements in the shower. It's a violation and I shouldn't be invading her privacy like this once more. I mentally berate myself and force my feet to move forward knowing that I have to get closer to the shower to drop the towel for her.
"Hey, Wes, I'm just gonna leave the towel right here by the sink for you," I say as I layer it over the counter top.
I don't hear a response, and I don't wait to see if she'll answer me, needing to get the hell out of that bathroom before any part of me thinks a second more about what she'd look like naked.
Because that thought does manifest for a moment. Just a fleeting moment.
I hate that my mind went there but I can't blame myself for having an attraction to someone as beautiful as Weslyn is. And not only that, but she is literally naked in my shower.
But instead of letting those thoughts fester any further, I just head back out into the kitchen and wait for her to be ready for our movie date.
23
Weslyn
I reluctantly step out of the hot shower, knowing that I need to get out soon if I want to be ready in time for the movie.
I let my feet hit the plush bathroom rug and reach for the towel Kyran had left for me. I wrap it around my body and press it against my skin to dry off the rivulets of water dripping down my body before using it to dry off my hair.
I didn't answer him because he called me a nickname.Wes.I've never been called that before. Oftentimes I'm called Wesly mistakenly, but never Wes. And I also didn't know how to react knowing that I was mere feet away from him, naked in his bathroom.
I realize that I need to put a pep in my step, because I know I've been in the shower for far longer than I needed to be, but I had to make sure I washed down all mythoughtsbefore I got out. I reach into my suitcase to grab a new set of clothes—thank goodness I packed a variety of things since I didn't know what I needed to be prepared for.
After putting on my undergarments, I decide to step into a black tank dress, long enough to cover my knees, and pull out the jacket I brought just in case it gets chilly. Notonly that, but the sky looked like it might call for some rain, and then I find my socks and white canvas shoes, putting those on last before turning to the mirror to finish getting ready.
When I'm done, I put the rest of my things back into my suitcase—dirty clothes in my travel laundry bag—and zip it up. I take one last look at myself in the mirror before turning to leave the bathroom.
I see Kyran sitting down at the island in his kitchen, facing the big open window that looks out over the city. As I approach, I try to keep my steps light so that I don't bother whatever seems to be on his mind, but he must hear me anyway. He turns around and immediately jumps off the stool to greet me.
"Wow. You look beautiful," he states, and I have to hide the way his compliment makes me feel. But he catches me.
"Why do you do that?" he asks as he takes a gentle step forward. He's not asking it rudely or in an annoyed way; he's asking with genuine curiosity and even without context, I know what he's talking about. But I play dumb.
"Do what?" I ask and he shakes his head lightly and playfully.
"Shy away from my compliments. It's okay to accept them, you know." His tone is so gentle, but it's still coated in that deep masculinity that I've grown to love falling asleep to at nights. Even after we hang up the phone and say our goodbyes, it's the echo of his voice in my head that allows me to fall asleep easily and peacefully.
"I don't know. I guess I just don't get very many compliments and I never really know the right way to react," I admit, and he looks at me with so much understanding in his eyes.
He takes another step toward me, and I don't move as I let him close in. The sun sets behind him, the last of the dusky, peach colored rays of light falling behind the cover of the New York buildings, causing for the light effect in his apartment to create an elusive, intimate moment.
