doesn’t cool you down. As I run up the stai rs, sweat starts dripping down my back.
Chloe is right where I left her, only she’s asleep. I worry that her condition has worsened, but when I close the front door softly, she opens her eyes. She lifts herself on her elbows.
“Don’t get up,” I tell her, dropping the bag with the pastries on the table and walking to the couch. “How are you?” I feel her forehead, but I’m so hot that I can’t really tell if she’s still feverish.
“Better,” she whispers.
A drop of sweat rolls down my nose and drops onto her hand.
“Sorry.” I wipe my face in the hem of my t-shirt. It’ll probably gross her out, but what can I do.
She lies back and makes a strange moaning sound. Her throat must be killing her.
“The fever’s gone,” she says.
“That’s good. That’s really good.” I notice how flushed her cheeks are. She looks sweet and vulnerable . Delicious. My eyes drop to her mouth and I catch myself wanting to kiss her again. Then I remember how that ended last time, and I hold back.
I have to get up before I do something stupid. “I have to take a shower.”
****
I leave the bathroom with apprehension. I’m not sure I can trust myself around Chloe while she is in her damsel-in-distress mode and all cute about it. I hope she’s at least regained her sense now that the fever is gone. At least one of us needs a cool head if we are going to keep up with this ‘only roommates’ plan.
Feeling so tense around her is strange . I’m not used to it. It makes me jumpy, like my heart has gone into overdrive. I panic every time she speaks to me. The whole situation has become bizarre. When I offered her to crash at my place more than a month ago, this was not what I imagined. I was trying to help her out, and then I was trying to get her to like me. Now I am in a situation where I have to stop her from doing something stupid, something that she would later regret. Although I’d like nothing more than for her to do something stupid.
Like I said, bizarre.
When I enter the living room, she’s not there.
“Chloe?”
I look around and see the door to her bedroom open. I don’t dare go in there.
“I’m in here , reading,” she calls back, and she sounds better. There’s no more of that rasping in her voice.
I’m actually relieved that she’s out of the room.
I take a croissant from the bag Sal gave me for Chloe (there’s plenty left in there for her) and make myself a cup of coffee. I haven’t had lunch today, but I don’t feel very hungry. I’m too nervous for that. Shit, it’s like I’m back on that slope up in Tahoe poised to do my first double cork. My stomach is in knots, and I think I’d feel more relaxed competing against Stale Sandbech at the Olympics. Which says something about the state Chloe’s gotten me into.
I try to distract myself by checking my mail (two shredding vids from my brother, and a message from Mike that I have to read three times to understand). I get my earphones and watch some videos. Time is crawling by.
Despite the loud music, my mind keeps going back to the girl in the next room. I catch myself sighing loudly every two minutes. I’m desperate here, man. What do I do? I want her, and she says she doesn’t want me. But her behavior is confusing, so I’m not sure I should believe her. Is it worse that she’s lying about not wanting me , or that she truly doesn’t want me? This is getting borderline insane.
I just wanted a fun last vacation before college. Now I’ve got a huge mess instead.
I pull the earphones out, tired of staring at the screen and not seeing anything. Even the music didn’t manage to calm me down. The situation is dire.
I hear Chloe move around her bedroom. She could’ve at least closed the doors to spare me. Now I just keep wondering what she’s doing in there. Chloe and a bed in the same context is not a good thing for a guy who’s lusting after her. Badly.
Suddenly, I hear
Chloe is right where I left her, only she’s asleep. I worry that her condition has worsened, but when I close the front door softly, she opens her eyes. She lifts herself on her elbows.
“Don’t get up,” I tell her, dropping the bag with the pastries on the table and walking to the couch. “How are you?” I feel her forehead, but I’m so hot that I can’t really tell if she’s still feverish.
“Better,” she whispers.
A drop of sweat rolls down my nose and drops onto her hand.
“Sorry.” I wipe my face in the hem of my t-shirt. It’ll probably gross her out, but what can I do.
She lies back and makes a strange moaning sound. Her throat must be killing her.
“The fever’s gone,” she says.
“That’s good. That’s really good.” I notice how flushed her cheeks are. She looks sweet and vulnerable . Delicious. My eyes drop to her mouth and I catch myself wanting to kiss her again. Then I remember how that ended last time, and I hold back.
I have to get up before I do something stupid. “I have to take a shower.”
****
I leave the bathroom with apprehension. I’m not sure I can trust myself around Chloe while she is in her damsel-in-distress mode and all cute about it. I hope she’s at least regained her sense now that the fever is gone. At least one of us needs a cool head if we are going to keep up with this ‘only roommates’ plan.
Feeling so tense around her is strange . I’m not used to it. It makes me jumpy, like my heart has gone into overdrive. I panic every time she speaks to me. The whole situation has become bizarre. When I offered her to crash at my place more than a month ago, this was not what I imagined. I was trying to help her out, and then I was trying to get her to like me. Now I am in a situation where I have to stop her from doing something stupid, something that she would later regret. Although I’d like nothing more than for her to do something stupid.
Like I said, bizarre.
When I enter the living room, she’s not there.
“Chloe?”
I look around and see the door to her bedroom open. I don’t dare go in there.
“I’m in here , reading,” she calls back, and she sounds better. There’s no more of that rasping in her voice.
I’m actually relieved that she’s out of the room.
I take a croissant from the bag Sal gave me for Chloe (there’s plenty left in there for her) and make myself a cup of coffee. I haven’t had lunch today, but I don’t feel very hungry. I’m too nervous for that. Shit, it’s like I’m back on that slope up in Tahoe poised to do my first double cork. My stomach is in knots, and I think I’d feel more relaxed competing against Stale Sandbech at the Olympics. Which says something about the state Chloe’s gotten me into.
I try to distract myself by checking my mail (two shredding vids from my brother, and a message from Mike that I have to read three times to understand). I get my earphones and watch some videos. Time is crawling by.
Despite the loud music, my mind keeps going back to the girl in the next room. I catch myself sighing loudly every two minutes. I’m desperate here, man. What do I do? I want her, and she says she doesn’t want me. But her behavior is confusing, so I’m not sure I should believe her. Is it worse that she’s lying about not wanting me , or that she truly doesn’t want me? This is getting borderline insane.
I just wanted a fun last vacation before college. Now I’ve got a huge mess instead.
I pull the earphones out, tired of staring at the screen and not seeing anything. Even the music didn’t manage to calm me down. The situation is dire.
I hear Chloe move around her bedroom. She could’ve at least closed the doors to spare me. Now I just keep wondering what she’s doing in there. Chloe and a bed in the same context is not a good thing for a guy who’s lusting after her. Badly.
Suddenly, I hear
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