— Everleigh

Sasha was in his shower. The moment we entered his apartment, he went into his bedroom, leaving me alone to inspect his home all by myself. It was like a bachelor pad. The living room had a black couch perched in front of a big flat screen television. There was a fluffy white rug that took up most of the room. There were huge floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the entire city. The glass table that was centered directly in front of the couch really set it off along with some hung paintings.

I slowly made my way over to the kitchen that was actually kind of small and looked particularly unused. My nosiness pleaded with me to take a little peek in the black refrigerator, but I refrained. I knew my limits.

That was really all there was to it. Except, there was a door that led directly to Sasha's room where he was showering.

Just then, my phone began to ring. I pulled it out of my pocket, hopeful that Xyah and I's friendship meant a hell of a lot more than some abusive asshole, but apparently, it didn't. It was some unknown number that I didn't have the energy to answer. Instead, I watched it ring before sitting down on the soft cushions of the couch, wanting nothing more than to melt away.

I was about to drift off into sleep when Sasha's door squeaked open. I looked over to catch his mouth-watering toned legs that led up to a white towel tied around his waist. It did a good job of containing what connected his v-line. There was trimmed pubic hair that stopped at the very beginning of his abs which glistened with water. My eyes had a mind of their own as they wandered up to his strong pecs that were covered with tattoos and down his long arms packed with muscles and veins. Not to mention, his wet, dark hair imperfectly falling to his ears in the most perfect way. His eyes found mine as the pools of gray called out to me.

"Everleigh," he called, breaking me from whatever trance he put me in. I cleared my throat and looked out toward the view outside, hoping that he wouldn't dare bring up catching me checking him out.

"You can sleep in my room. I will sleep on the couch," he told me.

"What?" I questioned, turning to face him again. He had crossed his arms which didn't help my imagination at all. He was still the most handsome man I had ever seen.

"Come on," he said, beckoning me over with the slight bob of his head. I was like a moth drawn to a flame with the way I stood and followed him into the room. The way he called me to his room was so innocent, but my hormones just wouldn't let that slide.

His room fit him perfectly. It even smelled like him—clean with a hint of spice. It reminded me of luxury cologne the way it hit me but in a way that wasn't annoying, but rather addicting and alluring. His room was all black. From the black silk sheets to the black comforter. Even the curtains that hid the floor to ceiling windows were black. The only thing that wasn't black was the white rug planted just underneath his bed. There was a long dresser with a huge flat screen sitting on top and a black Chester Drawer. His room was very similar to the living room

There was a bathroom connected to his room. As we headed deeper into his room, I could see the condensation accumulate on his mirror from the hot shower he had just taken. There was also an adjoining closet that looked huge but was filled with almost nothing.

He gripped his towel around his waist and went to grab some clothing. When he was finished, he handed me a pair of breifs and a shirt. I eyed his clothing, knowing damn well it wouldn't fit me.

"You can change into these or take a shower. Whatever you want," he said. I nodded my head and turned on my heel to make my way to his bathroom when I suddenly stopped and turned back around.

"You don't have to sleep on the couch, you know? I feel bad enough intruding like this already," I told him.

"I'm not letting you sleep on a couch," he told me. Again, it was moments like that where I caught a glimpse of the boy I met all those years ago. Moments where I wanted to run into his arms and let him hold me so tight that all the negative energy would ooze out of me. The moments I dreamt about.

"Neither am I," I said stubbornly.

He shook his head back and forth before sighing. "Well, I guess we're sleeping together."

My jaw almost dropped at the sound of that. I began to demand myself not to show any kind of reaction because I could see the smirk beginning to form on his lips. Instead, I turned back on my heel and hurried inside of the restroom.

I sat the clothes on the marble counter and headed over to the shower. I didn't know why I expected a bathtub—there wasn't one. It was just a shower, with a clear door, with a white toilet beside it.

It was easy turning on the shower. All I had to do was turn the knob a little to the right for hot water to go sprawling out the shower head. I know he gave me the option of either showering or just changing, but I had a very long night, surrounded by sweaty bodies and drinks. I could still smell the alcohol lingering on my skin.

I peeled my work clothes off my body and stepped into shower. His shampoo, conditioner, body wash, washcloth, toothbrush, and toothpaste were the only things in the shower. Each of them held a masculine scent to them. I didn't even want to get started on the toothbrush and toothpaste. I didn't know anyone who brushed their teeth in the shower. I made a mental note to ask him about it later.

I took my time in the shower, letting the heat coax my muscles. I was mad that I couldn't grab a shower cap to protect my curls from frizzing up, so I settled with rinsing my hair. I was going to have to deal with it in the morning. It wasn't like I had a wash cloth or anything, so I poured body wash on my hands and massaged my skin with it.

Once I was out the shower, I stepped out and onto the fluffy bath mat. Heading over to a little cabinet I had just noticed, I saw that not only were towels neatly folded in there, but there were also washcloths. Instead of using my hands to bathe, I could've had a washcloth the entire time.

With a loud sigh, I grabbed the towel and dried myself. The thought of giving him a taste of his own medicine and walking out the shower with only a towel came to my mind, but I didn't do it. I would never have the balls.

After putting on the huge briefs he let me borrow, I was glad that it kind of fit my thighs, but the waist was huge so I had to roll them up until they were comfortable. Then, I placed his plain, white t-shirt on that went to my knees. With my dirty clothes, I folded them up and sat them down on the counter.

I twisted the doorknob and stepped out. Sasha was there in his bed, laying down with his phone in one hand and his other tucked behind his head. He exchanged his towel for a pair of briefs based on the Tommy Hilfiger waistband peeking out the waistband of his shorts. I pretended not to check him out again.

He glanced over at me and had to do a double take. The look in his eye had darkened, and I could feel my heartbeat thumping wildly in my chest.

Clearing my throat, I muttered, "Thanks for the clothes."

"Yeah," he said awkwardly. I watched him place his phone down beside him on the nightstand and sit up.

I didn't know what to say. I didn't know if I should move or not move, so I just stood there... waiting. It was a thick, awkward, tension that settled around us.

As I awkwardly looked around his room. I noticed that he had Caprisun's filled to brim in his trashcan. A smile came across my face at the memory of when we were younger.

"You still in love with those, huh?" I asked, pointing at the trash. "I bet they're Fruit Punch because you used to be obsessed with those, and the only way you'd drink it is if you flip the drink upside down and puncture it with the straw from the bottom." I laughed.

Sasha chuckled. I looked over at him to see he was already looking at me with a small smile on his lips. Sasha never really smiled, even when he was younger, but it was a beautiful sight.

"I was just thinking..." he broke the silence. "I feel like you know me more than anybody in the world, but it's like we're strangers."

My smile fell because I knew exactly what he meant.

"It's been a long time. We grew up. We changed..." I said.

"Especially me," he finished, shaking his head back and forth. Suddenly, that cold exterior he put on like a shield was back. He stood up, forcing me to crane my neck back just to look at him.

"I'll sleep on the couch," he said, walking right past me and out the door.

—
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