“Illegal?” I whispered and then repeated on a croak That was a fact I was really hoping was part of the urban legend side of him. “Illegal?”
“Come on, Ellie,” he called in a singsong voice.
And like an idiot, I followed him. So much for that whole liberated woman thing.
----
Fin Hunter’s apartment was on the opposite side of campus than mine, but similar in a lot of ways. His building housed mostly college students, just like mine. It was seven stories, just like mine. He lived on the sixth floor, although I live on the third, but the staircase was very similar. Although Fin’s was like an upgraded version of my building, it was obvious his rent was more, the tenants were of a higher, probably quieter standard and the super probably fixed things the same day they were broken. However, the only substantial difference between our living places was he lived alone in his one bedroom space while I lived with a roommate in my two bedroom.
Wait. Scratch that. We both live alone.
I wasn’t surprised at all by the layout, or location of his living space, but I was very surprised by how clean and well decorated it was. The kitchen had nice, brand new appliances, and not just the ones that came stock with the lease, he had a really nice toaster and toaster oven. And there wasn’t a George Forman grill in sight, which in my limited experience with college-aged boys, seemed to be a fixture.
Likewise, his living room was spacious with a desk facing out and toward the TV in the back of the room, a comfortable looking sectional, an even more comfortable lazy boy and a huge TV that was already playing ESPN on mute when we walked through the door. His living room windows were long and large and overlooked campus while letting in lots of natural lighting.
I was even more disappointed to realize not only was his apartment nicer than mine, but I liked it better than mine.
Plus, it was possible he had better taste than me.
I stood awkwardly looking out the window so afraid of how the rest of this night was going to go. I had to get this back under control, undermycontrol. I was determined to fix, no to solve this problem all by myself, but Fin Hunter was so not going to make this easy for me.
“Fin Hunter, we need to talk,” I turned around and mentally readied myself to face him.
He looked up at me from his desk where he had brought two glasses of water and an extra chair. His hair was a bit mussed at the end of the day, his scruff shading his jawline and spotlighting those stupidly perfect lips and he had removed the hoodie he was wearing early, leaving his ridiculously toned arms exposed for my viewing pleasure.
Ok, Ellie. Focus.
“Come, have a seat,” Fin motioned to the chair pulled up next to his desk chair. His desktop was booting up, and he pulled out a laptop next to it.
I hesitated, not even wanting to get behind the desk. It felt like once I sat down I was resigning myself to this indentured servitude he seemed to think I already agreed to. No, I needed to stand my ground and offer what I came here to offer: a firmly worded letter writing campaign.
“I’m Ok,” I replied with a confident tone. “I-“
“It’s just a chair, Ellie,” Fin interrupted, giving me a commanding yet gentle look of his own. “You can talk to me about whatever you want from over here. Right now I feel like I’m about to be scolded. I promise you I will be much more receptive to whatever you have to say if you sit down and talk to me like we’re friends.”
My mouth started to fall open again, but I caught myself and purposefully locked my jaw. I thought over his words for a minute and decided that I hated he was right. But still, he was right. I didn’t want to scold him, and more importantly I wanted to get my way. I tried not to sigh impatiently, but I knew something slipped out when I watched his mouth twitch like he was trying not to smile again.
I reluctantly sat down in the comfortable kitchen table chair he brought over for me and then turned to face him. I was closer than I thought, way too close to think straight, so I pushed my chair back and opened my mouth to lay it out for him.
“I like this shirt you’re wearing,” he said before I could get anything out.
So confused, I responded with, “Uh, thank you.”
“Yellow’s a good color on you,” he continued, leaning in so that the space I just created between us suddenly disappeared.
“Thank you,” I repeated while leaning back to gain that distance again.
Fin Hunter hit me with his huge grin and looked up from under his lashes straight into my eyes, like straight into mine, all the way in, as far in as he could get. “Am I making you uncomfortable, Ellie?”
“Um….” Solid reply, I know. “No.”
“You seem uncomfortable,” he reiterated, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Stop it,” I suddenly snapped.
“Stop what?” His brow furrowed and his smile disappeared.
“You’re making me uncomfortable by asking me if I’m uncomfortable, so stop it!”
