Shit, this is awkward.
I hover near the couch for a minute, trying to decide whether I should apologize—although I’m not sure for what—slink back to Bowen’s room, or leave so his roommate doesn’t feel uncomfortable.
He saves me from having to decide by moving the throw pillow off the cushion next to him in invitation. I plop down and put my feet up on the coffee table. “Bow said you don’t sleep much.”
“No, not really,” he agrees. The smell of the bar he went to earlier is still clinging to him as he absently continues to flip.
“I didn’t think anyone still had cable these days,” I muse.
He makes a huffing sound that I think is supposed to be amusement. “You can’t get the same zombie flipping experience with streaming as you can with cable, so I keep it. Plus…” he finally stops switching channels, landing on the Home Shopping Network. “Is there even a point to having insomnia without hours of staring at the Home Shopping Network while the rest of the world sleeps?”
I chuckle. “Fair enough.”
“What about you? Insomnia too?” he asks.
“Nah, just a consulting business that keeps me busy at all hours and has completely fucked my sleeping habits.”
“Hmm,” he grunts.
“Oh, shit, I want one of these.” The woman on the screen demonstrates how to use the all-in-one broom-vacuum-mop-food processor, or whatever the fuck it is.
“I bought one a few weeks ago. It sucks. Fell apart the first time I tried to use it.”
“Bummer,” I say.
Hawthorne seems to relax next to me, his knee bumping against mine as we both spread a bit and get comfortable.
“So, do you like Bowen, or is this just a sex thing?” he asks. Blunt and straight to the point. Just my speed.
“I like him a lot, honestly, though I get the feeling there’s a lot to get to know about him. I’m willing to put in the work to do that.” I’m hoping he can hear my sincerity. I get the feeling that if Hawthorne doesn’t like me, I won’t have a chance in hell with Bowen.
“Fuck,” he mutters.
“What? You don’t believe me?”
“No, I do.” He eyes me sideways. “Truth? Bowen has never really gotten serious with anyone. There have been boyfriends here and there, but I could always tell right off the bat they wouldn’t last. Something seems different with you, even if it is really early on.”
I don’t bother to fight the smile that spreads over my face before studying Hawthorne’s body language again.
“You don’t want him to have a serious boyfriend?” I guess, and he tenses. Bingo.
“He’s my best friend. I want him to be happy.”
It’s not exactly an answer to my question, but I let it go…for now.
“Oh, hey, they always play episodes of The Golden Girls at this time of the morning, do you mind?” I ask, reaching over to make a grab for the remote.
He snatches it out of the way. “Dude, touching a man’s remote is serious business.”
I chuckle. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I must’ve missed the man class on proper remote etiquette. If I ask really nicely and promise to be gentle with it, can I please hold your remote?” I purr, intrigued by the way Hawthorne’s eyelids droop just slightly at my playful flirting.
Interesting.
He hands me the remote without further protest, which is good for both of us because it’s Blanche o’clock, bitches.
* * *
HAWTHORNE
Fuck. I can see what Bowen sees in him. He’s charming in an effortless, no-bullshit kind of way. The cheerful theme song plays from the TV, oddly comforting. I haven’t watched this show since I was a kid. I actually forgot it existed.
We settle into a comfortable silence, and I take the opportunity to try to work out the hot, twisted feeling I had in my stomach when I realized he was still here at four o’clock in the morning. Over breakfast, I was going to teasingly ask Bowen how his date went. I guess now I don’t have to.
Maybe the tense feeling in the pit of my stomach has nothing to do with Bowen having some guy sleep over. It might be deeper than that. At the bar tonight, there were scores of gorgeous women, my friends urging me to find a rebound hookup more enthusiastically with each round we downed, but I couldn’t get excited about any of them.
I love women. I always have. I was the kid chasing girls around the playground in elementary school, trying to kiss them. I was the guy in high school who was never without a girlfriend. Did this thing with Jess break me? Or is it the other way around?
“Are you super into The Golden Girls, or is there something else on your mind?” Aldis asks conversationally.
“Thinking about a climb I want to do tomorrow and wondering if I’m going to be able to get any sleep so I can do it safely,” I lie, but now that I’ve mentioned it, I am wondering that.
“Oh yeah? You usually climb alone or what?”
“Most of the time,” I answer.
I don’t know what’s going on with me, but I do know I don’t want Jess back. Now that it’s over, I can feel how right it was to end it. No, there’s something else nagging at the back of my mind. I just can’t figure out what it is.
“You want company?” Aldis asks.
“Huh?” I lost track of the conversation among my own mental tangent.
“The climb,” he reminds me. “You want company?”
“You want to come on a climb with me?” I eye him skeptically. I guess if he’s going to be seeing Bowen, it will be good for me to get to know him too. But climbing with someone? That’s pretty serious. It takes a lot of trust. “Sure, why not,” I agree after a second of consideration, and Aldis’s face lights up.
“Yeah?” He does a little fist pump. “Kickass. In that case, I need to get some more sleep so I’ll be ready to go bright and early. The good news is, I have all my gear in my truck already.”
“Cool.” I yawn, starting to feel the edges of sleep teasing. Maybe I’ll be able to catch a few hours before we go.
Aldis gets up, giving me a playful punch on the shoulder before ambling back down the hallway toward Bowen’s room.
I definitely don’t look at his ass until he disappears. Why would I? And I absolutely do not climb into my own bed a few minutes later, wondering what exactly Aldis was doing a week ago to make Bowen moan.
* * *
BOWEN
I can’t remember the last time I woke up with someone else in my bed, but having a large, warm body all wrapped around me is fucking nice. Aldis’s large leg is thrown over me, weighing me down in a way that should feel claustrophobic, but it doesn’t.
His hot breath fans against the back of my head, soft snores rumbling from him. I smile at memories of last night, how easy it was to connect with Aldis and how good it felt to really be seen by someone. I can’t remember the last time I felt that way, aside from with Thorne.
I lie there a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of Aldis’s body and the steady rise and fall of his chest against my back. But eventually, the need to piss and have some coffee forces me out of bed.