He cooked.
I stretch, pull on his oversized white T-shirt he tossed on the floor, and pad barefoot down the hallway.
He’s at the stove in his gray sweats, shirtless, flipping something in a pan.I pause in the doorway, just watching him for a moment.There’s something disarming about seeing him do something domestic in his own space.I’m supposed to be keeping this casual, but I could get used to this.
“Hey.Need some help?”I say, pausing against the doorway, arms crossed.
He looks over his shoulder, grinning.“Sit.You’re getting the full treatment today.”
Smiling, I do as I’m told, sliding onto a stool at the kitchen island.He serves up a plate: an omelette, and what looks like sourdough with some kind of herb butter.
“You went all out.Thank you.”I bite into the toast.“That’s incredible.”
“I’ve got plenty more.”He pours two mugs of coffee and hands one to me.
We talk for a while about our friends, and I start explaining why I haven’t been back when his pager goes off.Chatting with him had me forgetting about leaving, and now with the sound of his pager, I’m snapped back to reality.
“I’ll leave and let you get ready,” I offer.
“No, please stay and make yourself at home.”He kisses me, even lingering a little before standing.
I nod, but I feel the impact of his words.Like a door closing.We were in our own little world here, but now he’s leaving, and I don’t know what we are anymore.
He kisses me on the forehead before he leaves.“I’ll see you soon.”
He heads upstairs, getting dressed, probably putting on one of his designer suits.A few minutes later, he comes back down, fully dressed and looking every bit the almost chief resident again.He gives me one last look, and then he’s gone, the door clicking shut behind him.
And then I’m alone.
I sit there for a long time, just staring at my coffee.What am I doing?
I came here yesterday thinking this would be simple.But it doesn’t feel like that anymore.I think about the way he looked at me and touched me.The way he held me afterward, neither of us wanted to let go.
I clear my dishes, trying to distract myself from more spiralling thoughts, when I hear the door open again.
“Mr.Harrison?”a woman’s voice calls out.
I step out from the kitchen as she enters, a woman in her sixties, dressed in a crisp uniform.She stops when she sees me.Her eyes look over my outfit, which is when I remember I’m in his T-shirt and nothing else…
“Oh, you’re not...I’m sorry.I didn’t know he had company.”
“He left for work,” I say as I start retreating to his bedroom.I need to put on actual clothes and leave before this gets more awkward.“I was just about to head out.”
She nods, setting down a set of keys and a brown bag.“I’m Elvira.I come twice a week to tidy up.I’ve known Mr.Harrison since he was a teenager.”
That makes me stop walking and turn around.Because she’s not just the housekeeper.She’s someone who knows him.Really knows him.And maybe she can tell me something that will make sense of all this.“Really?”
“Oh, yes.I used to work for his parents.He was...a wild one, back then.Smart as hell.Always in trouble, though.”She chuckles softly.“But kind.Even when he didn’t want anyone to see it.He acts like he’s hard, but that boy’s heart...it’s too big for his chest.He just learned young how to hide it.”
I don’t know why that hits me the way it does, but something shifts in my chest.Because that’s it, isn’t it?That’s what I’ve been seeing all along but couldn’t quite name.The way he tries so hard to stay in control, to keep people at arm’s length, to protect himself.But underneath all that armor?He’s soft, caring, and he feels things deeply.
Just like I do.
Suddenly, it clicks.This isn’t about attraction or chemistry or fun.This is about two people who are both terrified of getting hurt, both trying to protect themselves by saying that this doesn’t mean more than it does.
“He’s a very good man,” I say.“I’ll get dressed and let you do your job.”
“No hurry, love.You’re obviously special for him to have you here.No one’s ever been allowed in like this before.”
