I can’t believe I’m saying this to myself, but I’m actually looking forward to spending an extended amount of time in Seattle, near my friends. But for now, I have a month of free time to explore and go anywhere I want. I need to get my head on straight and enjoy my nomad lifestyle while I have it.
Taking my backpack out of my locker, I toss it onto a bottom bunk I chose for myself and unzip the top.
Pulling out a loose tank top and cotton grey sweatpants, I glance around the room again. I tilt my head at the door, as if looking at it harder would help me hear better, and it’s still remarkably quiet. It’s close to midnight so the chances of someone coming are possible since people land in hostels at all hours of the day and night, but rare.
I grab my clothes and put my bag back in my locker, then head to the bathroom down the hall. There’s nothing elegant about showering in a shared bathroom and typically you have to be so quick you hardly feel like you’re clean.
I take a few extra minutes and allow the warm water to snake over my body, lathering myself up as I think about the events from tonight.
Normally, it wouldn’t bother me, but thinking about him leaving so suddenly grates on my nerves.
I have a quick thought to ask Juliette, see if I can dig further and get some information on him, but think better of it.
That’s called stalking, psycho.
I palm my face, giving myself a disappointed chuckle, then slam down on the faucet turning off the water.
Kobi will be here tomorrow and at least my mind and time will be preoccupied.
The steam bellows around me as I wrap a thin towel around my waist. The mirror is completely fogged up, signaling I probably stayed in here longer than I thought and still no one knocked so the place must really be vacant tonight.
I swipe my hand across the mirror, wiping away the thin layer of condensation. I run a small hand towel along my chest and arms, wiping the excess droplets, while shaking out my damp hair. It’s still drenched and with the dim lighting in the bathroom it appears to be a deep shade of chestnut brown when really it’s more like caramel colored champagne.
Running my hand through my short beard, it’s a little bit more wild than usual, but I enjoy letting it naturally do its thing rather than grooming it nonstop. When I start teaching in the fall I plan to either shave it or at least trim it daily. Maybe.
Normally I would dress and not walk out in just a towel, but fuck it.
I scoop my clothes up into my arms and open the door. The crisp air hits my skin as I pad my damp feet down the hallway to my room. Walking into the room, I toss my clothes back on the bed and rip the terry cloth from my body, feeling that cool air hit everywhere.
I exhale deeply as I round my neck in circles and twist my body from side to side. I love air drying, but hardly ever get to do it so this is a bit of a treat.
Wrapping the towel around my shoulders I dip my head to the side, rubbing the damp cotton into my hair to prevent the drippage coming from the tips.
“Ahem,” someone clears their throat and I startle, jumping around as I rip the towel off my neckline and hold it in front of me.
A man, maybe in his mid-twenties, sits on the bed across from me. His dark eyes appear lighter than they are with as wide as they are. The sides of his head are neatly trimmed,matching the floppy but styled hair that lays in symmetrical waves on the top.
His jeans look the perfect shade of organized and his shirt doesn’t appear to have a wrinkle in it.
He’s clean cut, put together, and not naked like me.
“Holy shit. I am so fucking sorry.” My voice is genuine, as I hold the towel in front of my body, discreetly wrapping it around myself. “I really thought no one was here and I was taking full advantage of the privacy.”
His eyes are trained directly at my now covered dick as if he was staring at my ass before I turned around. He quickly blinks, turning away. “It’s no problem, I would have probably done the same thing.” Then an awkward but kind smile crosses his face as he shifts his eyes toward me and…wow.
Do they make jaw implants for men?
A sharp jawline peppered with mouthwatering facial hair, a thousand-watt smile, and a tan pigment decorates his skin, making me wonder if that's due to days of backpacking or his natural lickable tone. His eyes are dark, with a tough exterior like he’s been through more than he should have for his age yet there’s a kindness in the slight squint of them.
Subjectively, he’sexactlymy type.
I run a hand through my damp, messy hair, taken aback for a moment before I compose myself.
What has gotten into me lately? My normally fun, playful, wild self who’s usually the life of the party is totally…completely…entirely…Fuck. I stutter through trying to describe myself inside my own brain.
“Hey.” I step forward using my left hand to grip the hem of my towel, returning my own million-dollar smile as I reach my other hand out. “I’m Dane.”
He stands, sliding his hand into mine. “Ethan.” He squeezes my palm with the perfect mix of dom-sub energy and I wonder if he’s a switch like me.
