“You going to tell me what the deal is?” I ask, and Whit shakes his head.
“You got issues with your body? Cuz from what I can tell, it’s nice.”
Whit grips the towel tightly in his hands and then whispers. “Please leave, Caleb.”
Well, fuck when he says it like that.
“Okay, man. I’ll go shower.”
Whit nods, not looking at me. When I exit the bathroom five minutes later, Whit’s standing in the room, the towel wrapped around his shoulders, hiding his body from my eyes.
“All yours,” I say, and he nods, pushing past me and locking the door behind him.
What the hell is that about?
I try and shrug it off but can’t quite let it go.
So, when he appears ten minutes later, fully clothed, I’m on him.
“You seriously not going to talk to me about what that was back there?”
“Not about this, no.”
I rub the back of my neck. “You mad at me for taking you out?”
Whit shoves his hands in his pockets and shakes his head. “It has nothing to do with that.”
I sigh, hate being in the dark. Still can’t get a read on this guy, and it bugs me. It’s like a mosquito bite that won’t stop itching.
“You seriously not going to share?”
“No, can we just go downstairs?” he asks, and I sigh heavily, not wanting to give this up but not quite sure I should push.
Whit and I are still strangers. I don’t know much about him. He’s as much of a mystery as he was a month ago.
“Sandwiches are ready,” Liam says when we go downstairs. He’s made an ordinary turkey sandwich look like it should cost a hundred dollars. My mouth begins to water as I grab onto the plate.
Whit and I take a seat at the kitchen table, and I try and keep my distance but end up scooting so that our legs are at least touching. My thigh presses against his, and only then do I dig into the sandwich Liam made, groaning on the first bite.
“This is amazing,” I say, consuming half the sandwich in about ten seconds.
Whit nods in agreement, taking smaller bites and wiping his mouth every so often.
He looks good when he eats. He must think I look like a garbage disposal.
“Anne’s going to be pissed she missed this,” Liam says, waving a hand between us.
I chug a cup of water. “Yeah, well, maybe Whit and I’ll entice her out of her hidey-hole next time.”
Whit peeks over at me, and I explain, “His wife’s an artist and goes through these phases where she just paints. We don’t see her for weeks.”
Liam glugs down a soda and then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He burps loudly and then pats his belly.
“Well, as much as I’d like to stay and chat, I’ve got to go set shit on fire. I’ll be back tomorrow morning for more fun. I’ll see if Anne can come. She’ll want to see your boyfriend again.”
“We can’t wait,” I tell him and nudge Whit when he just chews silently.
When Liam lumbers out of the house, Whit says softly, “So we’re boyfriends now?”