I look down. "I still have my shoes on."
Curtis finishes pulling his shirt on and turns to raise a brow at me. "Then take them off."
"I can't."
Curtis sighs as if he's in physical pain.
"I can take my shirt off, though. That's easy." I demonstrate.
Huffing, Curtis walks over and kneels on the floor. He unties my shoelaces. "Don't pretend you're not just being lazy."
"I'm not," I protest. Leaning over and dealing with those laces is too much effort. I want to flop back in bed and sleep. "I like this," I say after a moment.
"Me acting like your servant?"
"You on your knees," I answer, biting back a smile. "I like looking down at you."
His eyes jerk up to meet mine. My heart thuds, though I'm not sure why.
"Remember when I said that? The first night here?"
Curtis pulls off my shoes and stands up. "Get changed. We need to go to sleep."
I do as he says while he goes to the bathroom. Even though I know I should brush my teeth, I still argue with myself for a solid minute about whether I can be stuffed.
In the end, I drag myself to the bathroom, because Curtis is there. I join him in the sink and do a sloppy job of brushing my teeth.
"My throat hurts," I moan, after rinsing my mouth.
"You've said," Curtis says, then pauses. "I have throat lozenges."
I blink. "You do?"
"In the bedside table," he says.
I'm already out the door. "I hope you have nice tasting ones," I say, walking over to his bed and flicking on the lamp so I can see. "Something honey flavoured, or lemon —"
I open the organised bedside table drawer. There are two books stacked on each other, and a packet of tissues, and a packet of throat lozenges. But that's not what has gotten my attention.
I reach out and touch the small box, with a tasteful picture of a woman and man in bed on the front. It's unopened.
Before I felt like I was floating, my body light, my thoughts trivial. Now, everything has sharpened, and that makes my head hurt. It makes my heart hurt.
"Did you find it?" Curtis asks, and I hear his footsteps approaching.
"Yep!" I say, grabbing the packet of lozenges. I turn around and see him right there. I hold up the packet and pull a smile.
Curtis isn't a fool, because he reads my expression in a second. Then he looks around me, at the drawer. I nudge it closed with my leg, but I'm too late. Curtis has seen what I've seen.
Why do I feel so surprised? Of course, they're going to have sex. Maybe they already have, and this is the second packet.
I pop a yellow lozenge out of the foil and stick it into my mouth.
"Liam —"
"Thanks for this," I say, pressing the packet into his chest and walking past him. There is no way in hell I'm talking about this. I get into bed as quickly as possible, turn off my lamp, avoiding his gaze the whole time. I can't let him see my face, because then he'll know.
He'll know and he won't be my friend anymore.
