Friday, Aug 15th
Julia
Drew: I need to see you again. Maybe we can make a date happen soon?
“Julia! You have to see this! Come here!” Ace calls from the bedroom of my apartment, having officially moved in with me for the time being while the fire cleanup in his place is underway. I still can’t believe he almost torched his entire place—this entire building—trying to get rid of a bug.
“One second!” I yell back, fingers poised on my phone to type a text back to Drew. I haven’t exactly detailed the fact that Ace is staying with me to him, and I’m not quite sure I’m going to. There’s not really a good way to explain to a guy you like that another guy is sleeping in your bed every night, even if he is your best friend with whom you’ve done it hundreds of times. Especially, given the history of how Drew feels about Ace’s intentions. Ever since Ace joined all my classes, an extra layer of tension has spread between the three of us.
I also haven’t had as much time to hang out with classes taking up my time too, and I know Drew’s starting to wonder if I’m even interested anymore.
I don’t know if tonight will work…or the next couple days…but maybe next week?
I wince, deleting the text entirely. That sounds rude and likeI’m trying to brush him off in the worst way, and I’m not. I’m enjoying the time I’ve been spending with Drew a lot. I just…think the bed might be a little tight with three of us.
Not that I’m even close to sleeping with Drew. I’m not. We’ve barely even kissed for real, and physically, I just don’t know if I’m completely ready to go all the way with someone. I know I’m technically an adult at eighteen—almost nineteen—but sometimes I still feel so young.
I blow out a breath and refocus, trying to think of a better message.
Me: I know. I miss seeing you too! It’s just been so busy getting back into the swing of classes. Maybe next weekend?
“Julia!” Ace yells again, and under the gun, I push send without overthinking it this time. I toss my phone to the surface of my kitchen island and power walk toward my bedroom, a tiny bit of apprehension about him accidentally setting my place on fire too making me move faster.
The door is pulled but not shut, so I shove through it and toward the bathroom and my walk-in closet, where the light shines out across my perfect comforter Ace made sure I got.
“Where are you?” I ask, choosing between the door to the bathroom and the closet with both interest and hesitancy when his voice calls out from the bathroom.
“In here!”
“You’d better not be pooping,” I mutter under my breath as I push the door open and step inside. Thankfully, he’s not by the toilet at all, but he is a familiar shade of greenish-brown, all the way down to the hair of his eyebrows, a low-slung pair of basketball shorts tucked into his underwear at the tops of his thighs.
I gasp, and he smiles even bigger.
“Oh my God, Ace. What are you doing?”
“I found your self-tanner!” he exclaims proudly, spinning around so I can get all the angles. “And I know using it withoutasking was a boundary crossed, but I’ve already found it online and ordered you two more bottles even though I didn’t even use half of this one.”
“Why is it in your eyebrows?”
Said eyebrows pull together. “Do you not do that?”
“I don’t even put it on my face!” I shriek with a laugh. “How long have you had it on?”
“I don’t know,” he mutters. “Thirty minutes?”
“Oh my God! That’s express tan!” I yell. “The max is an hour. We have to get it off your face now!”
My Apple Watch pings with a notification of a text message from Drew, but I clear it without reading it and lunge for the shower to get the water running. I grab a washcloth from under my sink and my face exfoliator, and I put them on the counter while Ace spins in a circle, clueless over what to do.
“In the shower, you’re going to rinse off all the tanner thoroughly. Then, I want you to use this on your face and scrub it. Just trust me, you’re going to wish it were Halloween if you don’t.”
“What if I need help?” he asks, waggling his brows at me, and I shake my head.
“No. You’ve got to strip down, and I’m drawing a line. Now get in there and hose down, quick.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he agrees, hooking his fingers into the sides of his shorts and starting to shove them down.
“And, Ace,” I call from the door, pausing his motion just before I see all his goods.
