A Friend in the Dark - Gregory Ashe Page 0,57
Rufus stopped in the middle of the room, watching the bathroom as he raised his red hand and sucked the skin.
Dragging the ruck into the living area, Sam opened the bag and pulled out a white tee, a fresh pair of jeans, and socks. He froze, stared at the towel, and then he dug around in the bag until he came up with soap and deodorant. Hands full, he headed into the bathroom.
“Thanks,” he called over the white-noise rush of the shower starting. “But you don’t have to be nice. It’s fucking embarrassing that I’m thirty-seven fucking years old, and I have no fucking idea what to do when a guy I like is actually still in bed with me in the morning.”
A rattle and then a clash punctuated the sound of running water, and Rufus imagined the shower doors being manhandled by an overanimated Sam. Then Sam’s voice came back through the din: “Give me ten minutes and we can pretend I didn’t act like an asshole out of a romantic comedy.”
Rufus slowly crept into the bathroom and sat down on the toilet lid. “You didn’t act like an asshole. It caught me off guard, is all. I have no idea what to do either. I’ve never….” He sighed and put his face into his hands, muttering around them, “Fuck me.”
The shower door rattled back an inch, and Sam poked his wet, shaggy head out, a small grin on his mouth. “I knew it. You were a virgin.”
Rufus shot him a glare between parted fingers. “I was not.”
Sam disappeared back behind the clouded glass, but the shower door stayed open an inch. “So this is new for you too, huh?”
“Yeah,” Rufus said as he lowered his hands into his lap. “I have no idea what the process is for interacting with a guy I came on last night.”
The shower door rattled again; Sam stuck his head out, short dark hair heavy with water and spiking across his forehead. “I think the only polite thing to do is come on them again.”
Then he was gone, vanishing into the steam. But the door clattered open a few more inches.
“You’re getting the floor wet, you know.”
“Then you’d better decide. In or out?”
Rufus hesitantly stood. “I already showered.” But he yanked his T-shirt off and made quick work of his jeans before slipping into the shower behind Sam. “I’m going to get pruney.”
Sam closed on him, drops slicking his chest, steam wicking up from his shoulders, a grin on his face as he spun Rufus into the spray and kissed him. Then, pulling back, he said with an even bigger grin, “Trust me: I know how to do things fast in the shower.”
Sam hadn’t lied. It’d been fast and hot and a little rough, also Rufus’s first time screwing around with a guy in the shower, which turned out to be more pleasant than he’d expected. After getting dressed for a second time, his thick, fiery hair dripping water onto the shoulders of his T-shirt, Rufus stood just outside the bathroom, studying his fingertips.
Taking his hand, Sam examined the wrinkled fingers and kissed them. Then he said, “Rufus, I need to tell you something. It’s, uh. It’s kind of serious. It’s probably going to feel really sudden. It’s going to change this whole thing between us, and I don’t know if you’re ready, but I have to say it. I need to say it.”
“The hell are you talking about?” Rufus asked, tugging his hands from Sam’s hold and having to consciously stop himself from taking a step backward.
“For the first time since meeting you, I think I might be hungrier than you are.”
Rufus’s shoulders dropped and he let out a huge held breath. “Jesus Christ. You nearly made me shit myself.” He walked into the main room, picked up his Chucks, and hopped from foot-to-foot as he yanked them on. “You’re paying.”
In the bathroom doorway, Sam stretched, huge biceps flexing behind his head as he lolled against the jamb. He shrugged. “I’m always paying.”
“That’s because my skinny ass is always broke.” Rufus tugged his beanie down over his wet hair, slid his arms through the jean jacket sleeves, and walked to the front door. “But you wanted to make me breakfast, right?”
“Yeah,” Sam said with a smile so transparently happy that it came close to breaking Rufus’s heart. “I did.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
At breakfast, while Sam watched Rufus devour a platter of eggs, pancakes, bacon, and potatoes—and, to be fair, while Sam devoured his own