“So, where am I sleeping?” I ask after washing my hands and face. There is only one bed and a large couch. I wonder why we didn’t get separate rooms but I figure money might be a bit tighter now that I’m living with him and he’s paying for my private healthcare. “I don’t mind taking the couch.”
He frowns and leads me over to the bed. “You sleep here. I’ll take the couch. I’m going to have a shower, so use this time to get ready.”
“In what? I have no clothes here.”
He hands me an empty plastic bag. “Put your clothes in here. I’ll send them to be washed and dried with my own.”
“Okay,” I say and take the bag from his hands. “What about for the night?”
“Here,” he says and I almost stumble backwards when he starts removing his jacket and shirt.
“I could just sleep in the gown…” He turns his back towards me, pulls his white vest over his head and passes it to me. I take it. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll be fine,” he says and pads into the bathroom, still only half dressed. I should cover my eyes or look away but I can’t. He has a very nice back. Very nice. I find myself tracing the patterns and lines of his sculpted muscles and golden skin in my mind. I can’t help myself, regardless of the fact that it makes me hate myself. I’m human and I appreciate things that I find pleasant to look at. Nathan’s back just happens to be on that list.
During the time he showers, I call down to reception and ask them to bring up some bed sheets and a blanket. They do so in record time and I manage to set up his bed for the night before he exits the bathroom. I also manage to strip off and pull his vest on, which would probably reach to mid-thigh if I didn’t have a huge bump in the way.
I bag up my clothes and place them by the bathroom door before climbing into bed.
Nathan leaves the bathroom but I feign sleep to give him the privacy he deserves. Okay so I’m a liar. I peek through one eye and I’m shocked to see him in nothing but a towel, his golden skin damp and glistening in the dim light from the lamp by the couch. My eye quickly shuts again and I mentally scream, “OH MY GOD!”
I’ve never been this close to a naked man other than Caleb and it’s making my heart race. I try to steady my breathing but my constricting lungs are making it difficult.
I peek again and almost gasp when I realise he’s looking at me over his shoulder. He’s checking to see if I’m looking.
I’m not. Totally not.
His tongue peeks out and runs over his lower lip. I almost copy his action but fortunately refrain as he’s still looking at me. The muscles on his back tense as he pads over to the door, opens it and grabs something from outside after placing the bag of our discarded clothing in the hall. He walks back towards the couch, pulling a cotton, white robe on and tying it at the front. The towel drops to the floor. I can’t see anything because of the robe, but my heart lurches again at the thought of his nudity. My mouth goes dry, as do my lips. I wish I’d moistened them moments earlier when I had the chance.
To make my sleeping state more believable, I snuggle further into the bed and tighten my legs around the pillow between them, careful to keep my features lax. He seems to freeze and look over at me. I close my eyes completely as being a creeper is making me feel like a… well a creep.
I finally begin to doze not long after he turns the TV on low and pours himself a drink from the mini fridge. Of course he did all of this after putting on his gloves and rinsing the glass out about six times. The rinsing of the glass was the perfect opportunity to wake up ‘involuntarily’ but I don’t want to impose on his quiet time.
He really should see somebody about his germ issue. If he hasn’t already, that is.
We arrive at his office at no later than seven fifteen, which annoys me because I was hoping to sleep in until at least nine. Plus the way he woke me up wasn’t exactly nice.
He stood over the bed and shouted, “GWEN!” Louder than was necessary. I almost peed myself during the flailing that tangled me in the bedding. He thought it was hilarious. It’s nice to see him laugh. I can’t deny that his laugh is wonderful; it’s contagious and I found myself wanting to laugh with him.
“Why can’t you do this at home?” I ask, my chin resting on my hands as I sleepily watch him work on the computer in his dad’s office.
“Because I can only access certain files from my home computer and these need to be done today.”
“Do you want a drink?” I ask, eager to change the subject from files just in case he decides to give me a lesson in exports, imports and stocks.
“I’ll ask Sammy.”
“It’s Sophie,” I correct and shake my head. “She has a crush on you.”
His cheeks seem to pink slightly. “Huh. I didn’t notice.”
“Yep.” I spin in my seat, stopping as I face him. “She was devastated when you forgot her name yesterday.”
“Huh,” he murmurs and places his leather clad hand on the phone.
“I want to make the drinks. I’m bored.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.” He frowns and glances down at my stomach.
Well that makes no sense. “I’m pregnant, not an invalid. Besides, I cook for you at home all the time.”
I watch as defeat falls over his face. “Do as you wish.” He waves his hand flippantly in the air. “I’ll take a coffee, bla…”
“Black, one sugar, got it. I’ll even rinse the cup out six times just for you,” I remark and waddle towards the door.
“You have a mean streak, joking about a real condition,” he teases and flexes his hands in an apparently subconscious gesture.
I grin at him. It’s real, it’s mischievous, it’s old Gwen. He winks at me, noticing my shift in mood, no matter how temporary.
Then it’s ruined as the second I place my hand on the door it swings wide open. My body lurches backwards as it connects with my arm, narrowly missing my swollen navel.
Ouch.
Before I lose my balance entirely, I manage to right myself and Nathan rushes to my side.
“Are you alright?” He asks, scanning me from head to toe with worried eyes. After I nod he turns to the intruder. I see his body visibly tense and I peek around him to see who it is. Familiar scowls shadowed by dark hair come into view. Their faces are the same masks of disgust that have taunted me since our first meeting.
His parents.
Both Nathan and Caleb share their mother’s eyes but everything else belongs to their father. It’s strange to look at. He’s one of those people that age well, like George Clooney or Richard Gere. Still handsome after they passed their prime.
I gulp when his mother’s cold eyes narrow on me. Nathan closes the door, his eyes still on his father who’s staring at me with shock and disgust. “Explain.” He barks at Nathan, who just stands silently, his jaw tense, his eyes slightly wide.
“Why is she here?” His mother hisses and I wince at the bitterness to her tone.
“She’s my guest,” Nathan responds, his tongue marking his lower lip.
“Your guest?” His mother shrieks and looks back at me. “How can you even think of having that… that… slut as your guest?”