“I don’t want to interfere with your night, Chase. It’s enough that I’m having to stay here longer than you originally planned, the least I can do is give you your space.”
I turn and walk down the hall, but I hear footsteps behind me and his dreamy woodland scent drifts into my nose. Would it be rude to just plug my nose every time he gets close? It’s going to be heaven and hell sleeping in his bed tonight.
“I know where your room is, I don’t need an escort.”
“Do you want something more comfortable to sleep in or are jean shorts and that shirt good enough for you?” His eyebrows raise as he stares at me when we both enter his room, and I sigh.
The walls are a crisp white, but he actually has decorations in here. There are many photos of CeCe; although, that comes as no surprise. But he has an entire corner of his very large master bedroom more decorated than the rest of his house.
“Wow,” I whisper as I take it all in.
He walks into his closet, flips on the light and grabs a t-shirt, pulling it from the hanger. Oh God, a shirt that will undoubtedly smell like him. What is he doing to me?
“Wow what?” He tosses the shirt my way. It’s black with the Knights logo on the front and a schedule on the back from a few years ago.
“Just your bedroom… it’s not what I would have pictured.”
I don’t have much time to look around the room before another thunder crack makes both of us jump. I’m surprised CeCe slept through that one.
There’s an old whiskey barrel in the corner that I’d have to assume is from a distillery. I know when he was in his early twenties, before his dad passed away, they would go to different tastings all the time. There are shelves above it, one with a picture of him and Jack, his dad, next to a bottle of unopened Jack Daniels. There’s something on the other side of the barrel, but I don’t have a good enough view to see exactly what it is.
“Oh,” he says. “You can wear these too.” He pulls out a pair of shorts from his drawer. Red with a white drawstring.
“I don’t have to wear your clothes, Chase. It’s… I’ll be fine.” I gesture to what I’m wearing. He places both hands on his hips and his head falls back with a loud sigh.
“Don’t be so difficult.” He rolls his eyes as he walks toward me. “I promise you can wash my stench off of you in the morning.”
Wash it off? God, I want to live in it.
Chase swiftly exits his room, giving me privacy to change into his clothes. For as confident as I feel like I am most days, there are still moments where Chase Hunt makes me feel like a shy school girl. And standing in his bedroom about to change into his clothes is one of those moments. Clothes are reserved for significant others and maybe the occasional family member who spilled salsa on their shirt and needs a clean one to wear.
His shirt is loose on me and the shorts are roomy and comfortable as I tie the drawstring to keep them in place. When I would try to wear Drew’s clothes they didn’t hang off my body in the cute and sexy way I always hoped they would. Theyfitme. I hated it. It’s why I never grabbed anything from his closet when we were dating and why I had exactly three things to give back to him when we broke up. A phone charger, his old stethoscope he left in my car, and a laptop bag he was letting me use that I no longer wanted to have.
After I toss my hair into a bun, I open his door quietly and head back toward the living room. I can hear the TV still on and the voice coming from it sounds weirdly familiar. I’d recognize David Attenborough’s voice anywhere.
Rain pounds the pavement outside when I pass by the sliding glass door. I can see the street lights in between the water splashing. I’m sure no one is out in this weather, if nothing else it’s just miserable to be out and about in the rain.
“Are you watching a bird documentary?” My question startles Chase, like he forgot I was even in the house to begin with. His shoulders rise and fall quickly and he places his glass down on the coaster next to him. Of course he’s using a coaster.
“Yeah, we can change it, though.” He reaches for the remote and I walk into the living room, taking a seat on the loveseat.
“No, no. I actually planned to watch this one too. I’ve been waiting for it.”
“You watch animal documentaries?”
“Youwatch animal documentaries?” I ask him the same question.
His lips pull together like he’s just been caught doing something he isn’t supposed to be doing, but little does he know he’s just adding little stupid things to love about him.
“Guilty.” He raises the glass to his lips and I watch as he takes a sip and then lets his tongue dart out between his lips before he places the glass back down.
I settle in on the couch and pull the blanket over me while the documentary continues to play.
“Damn,” he breathes out when they say how wide the wingspan of an Albatross is.
“A ten-foot wingspan… that’s crazy. I need to see that in person one day,” I say, eyes wide still focused on the screen where they’re listing a bunch of facts.
“I don’t think I’d ever want to own a bird, but they’re pretty cool to learn about. I watched a whole show on sea lions the other night… It was interesting.” Chase’s face lights up like a kid—so excited about learning something new. It’s so dorky and endearing, and I find myself wishing he hates the things I love.
