While I stand there, completely zoned out, he glances over his shoulder and says, “Coming?”
Oh, yes. I am.
Jesus, why can’t I stop this?
This is like a train wreck waiting to happen, yet I don’t wanna jump off either.
There is only one door on this level, so I guess it’s his apartment. I know for sure the moment he unlocks it and opens the door to reveal what looks like the perfect sky-high penthouse. My jaw drops slowly as I follow him in, looking at the glass walls at the other end of the house with the most amazing view of the city.
“Wow,” I mutter. “You live here?”
“Yep, ha-ha,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. He seems rather uneasy, and I don’t know why. Maybe he doesn’t like showing off his wealth. Because damn … this sure is one expensive penthouse.
Slick, black walls with a cutout piece so you can see the dining area. Soft leather couches and chairs near a fireplace. A fake fur tapis on the floor and a smooth coffee table on top. The gold clock hanging from one wall and a still life painting hanging on another. Turning my head, I look up and see the second floor, where his bedroom is, along with a beautiful chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
This is like my dream house. Only, it’s not mine.
“Damn …” I mutter.
“You like it?” he asks.
“Do I like it?” I snort. “This is amazing.”
“Thanks,” he says, smiling. “I didn’t actually do the interior myself, but I do like it a lot too.”
“So you got an interior designer too?” I shake my head. “Like it’s no big deal.”
“It was my pop’s idea,” he says. But then he frowns and sucks in a breath, slamming his lips shut like he just said something he didn’t wanna say.
“Anyway, let’s get you cleaned up,” he says, nodding. “C’mon, I’ll show you the bathroom.”
I’m still in complete awe as I follow him around and up the stairs of the penthouse. The bed is right in front of me; Nothing walls it off from the rest of the house, just a bannister. And boy, is it large. More than three people could fit on there and still sleep comfy. I’d almost beg him to let me stay a night. Almost.
When we get to the bathroom, I still can’t stop looking. A huge rain shower is in one corner, and a tub that could fit two people is in the other.
“Holy f—” I whisper, my eyes almost bulging out of my skull.
“Feel free to use anything you’d like to clean up. There are towels and cloths in the cabinet. If you wanna shower, that’s fine too.”
“Oh, no, I’m fine,” I say, almost feeling ashamed for accepting any of this.
It’s like checking into a five-star hotel after winning the lotto and finding a chocolate on your pillow with a thank-you note for your stay. I’d feel guilty as fuck. Like I don’t belong there and need to apologize for intruding on their little slice of heaven.
“Clothes are in the bedroom. You can get there through the bathroom. They’re in the first closet. Second drawer.”
“You sure I can just walk right in there?”
“Yeah, sure. Why not?” He smiles awkwardly. “Anyway … I’ll go make some coffee downstairs. Two?”
“Sure,” I say.
“Got it.” He winks. “If you need any help, all you need to do is call my name.”
“I will.” I shut the door and look at myself in the mirror, still holding the tulip. I bring it to my nose and smell it again, the scent bringing back exciting memories. Things I don’t want to forget. Things that make me smile.
After a few seconds, I set the tulip down on the bathroom counter and throw off my clothes, bunching them up in the corner. Then I thoroughly wipe myself down with a wet cloth and dry myself off.
When I’m done, I quickly check to see if the bedroom is clear before I hop in. It’s not like he hasn’t seen me naked before … but it just feels weird. He only ever saw me when we were having sex. Or maybe I’m still a little bit in denial about the whole sex thing, and I like to pretend nothing ever happened, but he doesn’t need to know that.
But I have no time to think about that because I’m still too busy admiring the lavish bed, wondering if I could take a quick nap without him noticing. But I don’t wanna overstep and have him catch me floundering in his bed.
He mentioned something about a drawer, though, but I can’t remember which one, so I go to the closet and pull open the first one. It’s obviously not the right one because it’s filled to the brim with boxer shorts, ties, and socks. The second drawer it is then. Shirts and shorts. Got it. I pick one out that fits me the best, even though it’s still way too large. Guess I’ll go out looking like a dude today. Who knows, maybe it’ll become a new trend.