Beyond The Waves

Fifteen | Traitor

"Tonight was nice," he broke the silence.

I paused, smiling up at him. "Yeah, it was."

"You know, you don't have to help with fundraiser stuff just to have dinner with me."

"Is that so?" I said teasingly, but his expression did not match my tone. "I know I don't have to help, but I'll be okay. I promise."

He focused on the dish he was drying, and I continued washing.

I assumed Weston would come to the fundraiser too, but I have yet to ask. Was it selfish to want him to be there? I considered those who made up the majority of guests, and the worst he could say was no.

When the kitchen was spotless, I was yawning and chugging my third glass of water.

"You've got two options, Pierce," Weston said, closing the porch doors. "You can sleep here, or I'll walk you back. If you decide to stay, I'll be gone early for work, but Masie will keep you company."

I looked at my clothes, and before I could ask, he added, "I'll lend you a tee shirt if you need it."

My house was so close it would take less than five minutes to walk back, there was no excuse, yet I wanted to stay. I would stay in one room, he would stay in his, and we would be separated by walls. He probably did not want to walk back, intoxicated and alone. Harmless.

"As long as I'm not intruding."

"Not at all. I can show you where everything is."

He locked the doors, turned off the downstairs lights, and motioned for me to follow him upstairs.

Looks like I got my wish.

Masie trailed close behind, and when we reached the top, his bedroom door was wide open and spotless. I tried getting a closer look, but my observation was cut short as we walked down the hall.

"You can sleep in here." He showed me the spare room and its adjoining bathroom. "But if you need to shower, you can use my bathroom because I don't have soap here."

"What a terrible host."

"I know, I'm the worst."

I didn't need to shower, though I smelled like a bonfire and was slightly sticky from the humid breeze. Most of all, I wanted to see his room. So, I agreed.

His bed was neatly made, and books littered his nightstand. His white coat hung on the closet door, ready to be worn tomorrow. Masie curled up in a spot under the window, which faced my backyard.

"No puzzle's in here?"

He snorted and turned to find him leaning against the doorframe with folded arms. "I keep the puzzles out of the bedroom."

"Ah, I see. They're too intense."

He looked at his feet, and still, I noticed the apples of his cheeks had risen. Was he blushing?

He moved from the door to his dresser and handed me a tee shirt. Safely behind the bathroom door, I inhaled the fabric. I smiled. It was as if my nose was nestled in the crook of his neck.

Stop it, Ivey.

After my shower, I towel-dried my hair, finger-brushed my teeth to the best of my abilities, then slipped the shirt over my head and stared at myself in the mirror.

My fingers itched to send Kate a picture, except that would warrant an explanation, so I took a mental image, considering this was probably the only time I wore his shirt, and opened the bathroom door.