Scent (Scomiche)

I Shouldn't Feel Guilty Because, After All, I'm Not Dating Anyone

Scott’s expression softens, the slight worry in his features becoming relaxed. We both welcome a subject change, however I’m still thinking about Bryan and Scott’s question. Would I ever consider going out with Bryan again? “Why don’t you stay the night here? You seem awfully tired.”

“Where?” I retort. “The floor?”

He thinks about it. Lindsey takes the couch and he has a bed, but that’s all there’s room for. “My bed is open.”

“It’s not open. You’re in it.”

“We shared a bed a few weeks ago, I’m sure we can handle it. I don’t want you driving when you’re this tired. At the very least, I’m driving you home.”

I snuggle further into my warm cocoon of a blanket, curled up in the corner of the couch. Sleeping sounds just so good right now. And sleeping in the same bed as Scott? Dreams really do come true.

But then again, I just went out on a date with Bryan, and basically told Scott that I’d rather be dating him, which isn’t new information but still embarrassing, so maybe sleeping in the same bed as Scott isn’t the best idea. Right now, though, we’re just friends. I keep thinking, and as I’m thinking, my eyes flutter shut, falling into trances of exhausted sleep.

“Come on, Mitch, I’ll go grab you some pajamas and you can sleep in my bed. I’ll join you later.”

“Why not now?” I slur, taking his hand to stand when he offers it.

“It’s not late, yet. Lindsey still needs to be put to bed.”

He leads me towards his bedroom. “What time is it?” I ask.

“Around 8:15. Watch where you’re going, Mitch, you almost bumped into my dresser.” He laughs a little. “Okay, just sit on my bed, and I’ll find you something comfier than,” he gestures to my uniform, “that.”

I perch myself on the edge of his bed, my eyes blankly watching him as he sifts through his clothes, finding a large, cotton t-shirt, and shorts that have the drawstrings to tighten them. “These are the only bottoms that might fit you if you pull hard enough.” I nod in response and he hands them to me. “Could I steal that blanket wrapped around you? That’s what Lindsey uses to cover up with.” He helps me unwrap it from my cold body and leaves so I can change. I slip off my gross work clothes and swap them for Scott’s borrowed, comfy pajamas. He knocks on the door right as I’m tightening the shorts around my waist.

“Come in,” I say, fixing the shorts just right and tying the strings to keep them in place.

A grin overtakes his face when he sees me wearing his oversized clothing. “Okay, lay down.” He moves the blankets on his bed back for me and makes sure I get underneath them in such a way that I’ll definitely be comfortable. He gently lays the blankets on top of me. My eyes blink up at him with way-too-much adoration. If he really knew how much I still like him, it would supply his ego for years.

He towers over me, staring down right at my face. Then, he gets down on his knees so he’s more level. “I have a really strong urge to kiss you right now,” he says, almost as if we have been going out for a few months and he’s still shy of the fact that humans crave kisses.

“I am not stopping you,” I reply, sleepily, but not too sleepy to know the decision I’m making.

Scott places his elbow on the other side of my small body to stabilize himself as his face hovers above mine. His eyes comb over my head, starting with my eyes, finding my chin, then settling on my lips. If only he could see how fast the blood in my veins has started to rush. His lips part, like maybe he’s about to say something, but he decides against it. It is the longest moment of anticipation I have ever had.