Evan's idea to cool down a bit with a few episodes of Parks and Rec was a good one. The lighthearted silliness of the show made me feel normal and helped me get my perspective on things again.

Laden with reusable shopping totes because plastic bags have been banned in Portland for a long while now, Evan and I went to Walmart and then to the mall. He was very careful to look for bargains and avoid unnecessary purchases, which made me very proud. He got everything he wanted to get, except for the rainbow underwear, which we couldn't find head nor tail of, and I pulled out my phone and ordered him some on the spot. He hassled me about buying things for him, but I assured him that the underwear was a treat for myself. I can't wait to see it on him.

Picking out a proper wardrobe for him was fun. I tried to pull him toward the lighter colors I like, but he hesitated to move past anything brighter than navy blue. He only relented when I told him he looked fantastic in purples and reds. We got him some jeans, black slacks, nice shoes, plenty of undergarments and nice shirts.

I got excited to purchase household necessities for a man. Men's deodorant, bodywash, shampoo. He told me that he'd been using trial-sized bottles of all of these things donated by local charities. I tried to put a can of shaving cream and gray disposable razors in the cart, but he made a face and reached for the women's stuff instead.

"Women's shaving cream makes your skin feel so much softer," Evan said. "It smells better, too. Plus, look at these razors! That one's lilac! Why would I want a stupid gray razor when I could have a tropical rainbow like this?"

I sought out the family planning section for an investment in condoms while he fiddled with colognes, trying to find one he liked. Both of us made our purchase decisions at the same time and showed them to one another.

Evan cocked his head at the condoms. "Um... maybe another brand?"

I frowned, looking at the box. "What's wrong with this one?"

Evan chuckled as he leaned in so no one could overhear him. "That one's kind of targeted for... well-endowed people. I'm... uh, I'm kind of just an average Joe."

I giggled and clapped my hand over my mouth. Evan laughed, too, as he replaced the box and picked up another brand.

"Ribbed for her pleasure," he read off of the box, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

"Oh, no!" I said, catching sight of the cologne he was holding. "Evan..."

"What?" he asked, looking down at it.

"That's the stuff my dad wears," I peeped, laughing again. "You can't wear that."

Evan sighed down at the box, laughing. "He has good taste. Pick me out another one?"

I chose a light, fresh scent that reminded me of an ocean breeze. Evan nodded his approval with it.

Once we get home, the simple act of putting away our purchases fills me with a contentment I've never felt before. The sight of the two hanging clothing racks against the wall, one with a man's clothes and the other with a woman's, makes me smile.

I hadn't realized how empty my studio was until I see how easily his possessions fill the blank spots. His beloved atlas atop the bare coffee table. His socks and underwear in the empty drawer in the bedside table. His guitar case in the corner of the room, neatly out of the way but filling an empty gap in the décor.

When we're finished putting everything away, I hold up a pair of face masks. "Spa time?"

Evan grins as though he would like nothing more in the world.

I have him sit in my desk chair, shirtless, wearing new pajama pants. I summon Ms. Harper over for help. She is more than delighted to assist me.

"Thanks, Ms. Harper," Evan says happily, his eyes closed as I grab my tweezers to begin plucking his eyebrows.

Ms. Harper smiles, her hands coated in a mystery mixture of oil that she massages into his scalp. "Always happy to do some polishing on a sweet young man. Boys need upkeep, too. I love your tattoos, hon."

"Thank you," he says happily. I pluck out the first stray hair and he looks at me dazedly for a moment before he sneezes.

"Look at the light," Ms. Harper and I say in unison. We laugh at each other and she continues. "It's an involuntary reaction. Look at the light if you think you're going to sneeze. Last thing we need is you twitching like that when Audrey has tweezers by your eye."

Evan eyes the tweezers with an exaggerated expression of terror before focusing on the light overhead. But it doesn't cure his problem. The poor guy ends up having to plug his nose to avoid sneezing. I'm giggling the entire time I clean up his eyebrows.

Ms. Harper finishes soaking his hair in the oil and procures a paddle brush. I watch, fascinated, as she moves it in quick but gentle circles all over his scalp. It looks like it feels heavenly, and Evan's happy smile tells me he likes the feeling.

I begin to coat Evan's face in the avocado-green face mask while Ms. Harper continues this massage.

"I put a few drops of peppermint in with the coconut. Stimulates the follicles for healthy hair. You do that a couple of times a month, you'll be ninety with a full head of hair," she tells Evan. "Get a brush like this. Scrubs away dead skin on the scalp without pulling out your hair. How often do you shampoo?"

"Every day," Evan says, avoiding moving his mouth too much. His breath tickles my hand as I smooth the thick gel of the face mask onto his cheek.

"Stop that. That's why your hair is so dry. Twice a week, tops. And no products that contain alcohol. Stick with creams and pastes," she tells him. She laughs. "You look like Shrek."

I laugh because he absolutely does. Evan kicks my shin lightly. "Go put yours on, then, Fiona," he says in a terrible Shrek impersonation.

I head into the bathroom and apply my own face mask. My studio is small enough that we can still carry a conversation.

"It's crazy to me that there's this whole science behind self-care and health that I've spent twenty-one years not knowing about," Evan says.

"Well," Ms. Harper starts. "Some of it's science. Some of it's wives' tales. I can't tell you which is which, but at the end of the day, you feel good and you smell great and that's enough for me."

"Wait until you realize how much work goes into having dyed hair," I tell Evan, smearing the green stuff on my face. "Or body hair removal. Exfoliation. Nail health."

"Is your hair dyed?" Evan asks.

"No. When I was younger I'd lace it with dark brown highlights sometimes, but that's about it," I say.

"It's hard as hell to dye hair like ours," Ms. Harper informs him. "Because you have to bleach it first. Bleach ruins your hair and it takes a lot more of it to dye thick, black, women-of-color hair. If you don't do it right you end up with a dried-up, rusty orange mess."

"Some people can pull off ginger hair," I say. "I cannot."

"Thank you so much, again, Ms. Harper. And you, Audrey. I actually feel like I've had a spa day."

"You deserve it," I say, rejoining them in the living room. "Check me out."

"Fiona!" Evan laughs. Ms. Harper has a good chuckle, too, as she walks over to the kitchen to wash her hands.

"Keep the oil in for about a half an hour," she says. "Then shampoo it out. Use water a bit cooler than you normally would or the peppermint will make your whole body feel cold."

"Yes, ma'am," Evan says, standing up. "Thanks again."

Ms. Harper smiles and pats his shoulder. "Always happy to help."

She gives me a hug, then leaves us be. I offer Evan a foot massage while we wait for our masks to dry, and he accepts only when I agree to let him massage my feet at the same time. So we put on Parks and Rec again, laying on the couch with our legs intertwined, our feet on one another's laps, until our face masks dry into what feels like thin sheets of concrete. I rinse my face in the sink while Evan showers. He sings while he showers and the notes make it out through the sounds of the spray. I don't recognize the song, but it's an older one. Aretha Franklin, I think.

I take off my bathrobe and lay on the bed in my underwear, waiting for him to get out. Excitement races through my veins but I try to distract myself by scrolling absently through my phone.

"Audrey, thank you so much. My eyebrows look amazing! I feel awesome! I feel so normal," Evan exclaims as he leaves the bathroom, toweling off his hair. He wears a new pair of boxer-briefs that hug his skin alluringly. I'll never tire of the sight of this man in his underwear.

And, judging from his expression, he's happy to see me in mine as well.

I sit up against the headboard, bending one knee toward myself, trying to be alluring without doing anything too cringey. "You look fantastic, Evan."

Evan tosses the towel into the hamper at the foot of the bed. Then he sits on the bed beside me and I pull myself onto his lap.

"Want to try out the new condoms?" I ask in a light whisper, cocking my head.

"Yes," he replies without hesitation, resting his hands on my butt.

He kisses me, and the world feels happy. Calm. Peaceful. Every stress and worry I have is melted away. I feel like I can do anything with him beside me.

I think I might love him.

Don't forget to vote, comment and share!