“It’ll do for now. Turns out there are apps where you can scan items, but knowing me, I’d just keep scanning the wrong place a hundred times before finding the label.”
I make a high-pitched sound. “I’m sure you’ll find what works best for you soon enough. Can you read brail?”
“Not really. I’ve kind of got the numbers down, but it’s not as easy as it appears in the movieAging Adeline.”
“You watch a lot of movies, don’t you?”
“Yeah. Or I did. It’s not the same as it used to be, but I’m trying to make the best of a shitty situation any way I can. I do miss all my favorites.”
“I’ve actually seen that one. Well, kinda. My brother’s wife had it on in the background once.”
He snorts. “That doesn’t count.”
“It does to me,” I say back. “Wait . . . aren’t I supposed to be helping you with something?”
His eyes lift, face turning beet red. “Oh, right.” He faces the shower, reaching between the wall and curtain to twist the knob. “I’ll have to let the water heat up again. Sorry, I get to talking about things I like and then forget what I’m supposed to be doing.”
“No worries,” I say, running my eyes over the freckles trailing down the center of his chest. His pink nipples are hard and causemy mouth to water the longer I look at them.Focus on what you’re supposed to be doing. Stop being a pervert. This isn’t helping him. It’s doing no one any good.And yet I struggle to avert my gaze from his pretty pebbling nubs.
“I was calling because . . . well, I need help identifying the shampoo from the conditioner. I thought I could figure it out by pouring each one into my hand, but I think I may have put face wash in my hair.”
I laugh. “Face wash, huh?”
“Yeah, and I think I brushed my teeth with shaving cream. I don’t know why my sister gets me all these fancy toiletries every Christmas. Just give me things in normal bottles.”
“I can see where there might be a problem. Show me your shower caddy or wherever it is that you have everything at.”
“Okay. Let me . . .” His tongue hangs out the side of his mouth as he taps the screen and then he spins around with the camera still on him, lowering his phone as his towel begins to slither down his body.
“You see it? I think I’m pointing the right way.” Metal scrapes metal as he opens the shower curtain more.
“Um . . . I don’t think you have me looking in the place you need me to.” Each word sticks to the roof of my mouth.
His eyebrows jump and his towel falls lower. His happy trail is revealed, and my eyes feel cheated by the towel blocking me from seeing where it leads to. “Wait . . . do you not see the shelf in the corner?” He curses under his breath, stomping his foot as he moves the camera from side to side. There goes that towel showing me a little bit of what I’ve been wanting to see.
“Better?” There’s a hint of frustration in his voice.
Head spinning, I look up at the ceiling when the base of his cock peeks out.Think of something else. Think of something else.My mind going back to the rotten pizza from earlier. Istart to breathe easier and say, “Depends on what you mean by better.”
“Huh? Do you not see anything?”
“Oh, I definitely see something.” I keep my eyes on the ceiling with them twitching to go back to where they were before. He’s making this so much harder for me right now. I’m really trying not to be worse than I’ve already been. This is supposed to prove there’s still good left in me. Helping people is what I need to do to make up for all the ones I’ve hurt. But will it ever even be enough?
His eyes blink and then his face pales. “Oh, fuck. I’m not pointing the camera the right way, am I?”
“No, Honey, you aren’t.” Shit. That little nickname was supposed to stay in my head. Hopefully he’s too flustered with embarrassment to have noticed. But that doesn’t sit right with me either. Why can’t I have some kind of empathy when sleepwalking? Can two different types of people really live inside one person?
“I’m sorry. Fuck. I don’t think things can get worse than this.”
“I beg to differ. Things can always be worse.” I look down at my stained fingers, flexing them out in front of me. They can be way worse.
He taps the screen again as he holds his towel up higher. Seconds later he disappears from view and all I see is white tile. The camera moves to the right and I shout, “Right there,” when it finally lands on what he actually meant to show me.
“Man. I’m so tempted to hang up and block you from my profile now,” he says between nervous chuckles.
“No,” I say, trying to hide the panic in my voice. “Don’t do that. I still need to show you my recently learned movie-description skills.”
He laughs and the tightness in my chest eases. “Yeah, that is something I don’t think I want to miss out on.”
