“I brought some chicken noodle soup.Which cabinet do you keep your bowls in?”I pull one down from where he’s pointing and watch as a violent shiver rolls over him.“Finn, are you…”
He looks like he’s burning up, goose bumps all over him, bright red painting his cheeks.
“Have you taken any medicine?”
“I haven’t.’M f-f-fine,” he chatters, arms wrapped around his torso.
He’s not.I shuffle him out to the couch and get him settled.
“Hang on, let me get you some Advil.”
He’s half-lying down when I come back with a glass of water, some pills, and the bowl of soup.
“Here, sit up for a minute.”I hand him the water and pills, watching his grimace as he swallows.Replacing his water with the soup, I look around the room.“Do you have a blanket?Want me to get you a shirt or?—”
“In my room, there’s a quilt on my bed,” he says as he starts in on the soup.
I don’t know what I was expecting from his room, but the tidy, well thought-out space is not it.The soft cream-colored sheets, rumpled from sleep, are not the nasty dark ones that single guys usually go for.Like, since they’re dark, they can get away with not washing them very often.His closet is open but organized.His shoes are lined up, clothes hung up neatly.It’s just not what I imagined.
I pick up the handmade quilt pieced together in a mix of blues and grays.When I hug it to me, the fresh smell of fabric softener wafts up, and I inhale deeply.
“Did you find it?”Finn looks at me over the back of the couch.“Christ, yes.”He reaches back toward me, making grabby hands.“Are you sniffing my woobie?”
Eyes wide, I push it away from me and huff, “No.Did you finish your soup?”
I round the end of the couch, shaking out the quilt.Finn takes hold of it and pulls hard, sending me toppling to the cushion next to him.
“I did.Thank you.”He stifles a yawn and settles into the corner of the couch.Broad shoulders, pale and lightly dusted with a smattering of freckles, slide out of sight as he wraps his blanket loosely around them.“You didn’t bring me a pillow, too?”
“Would you like me to get you a pillow?”I ask, trying to force patience into my voice.
“I would.”He tries to do his usual douchey smile, but cuddled with a blankie, his nose bright red and hair a tousled mess, he just looks freaking adorable.
“Fine,” I sigh and grab a pillow from his bed.His very large, comfy-looking bed.I roll my eyes.The bed where he’s taken countless women, if the rumors are correct.“Here.”I chuck the pillow to him when he turns, and I start tidying up his tissues and bowl.
“Will you stay for a bit?”Finn calls as I scrub my hands under scalding water to kill any germs that might have gotten to me.
I dry my hands and bring him a fresh glass of water.He’s completely snuggled in.Completely.
I shift from one foot to the other after setting his glass on the coffee table in front of him.“I don’t know.I don’t do germs well.”Reaching up to center my septum ring, I panic for a beat, wondering if I washed my hands thoroughly enough.
“Please?Just till I fall asleep?”His eyes are drooping, so surely, it won’t be long.
I slide onto the far end of the couch and suppress a shudder when he tucks his feet under my thigh.What do I do?I don’t like feet any more than I like germs.Feet are disgusting unless they belong to an itty-bitty brand-new baby.
Oh my God.This is why I don’t like people.They have germs.And feet.
Finn sleepily mumbles, “Thank you,” as his eyes close and his breathing evens out.
I count to thirty, and then unclenching my fist, I tentatively reach out, touching his calf.The muscles are relaxed under my hand, so I push myself off the couch, trying not to disturb him.Finn rubs his feet together, the warmth of my ass no longer warming them.I pull at his quilt to cover him up better, but when I lift it, he shifts in his sleep, tucking one hand up under his pillow.And the other?The other is firmly in place, cupping his dick.
Of course.
14
“I know how to please a woman.”
“Then, please…leave me alone.”
