Hardwood - K.M. Neuhold Page 0,24
Ollie? It’s no different with Watson; he’s a new friend, that’s all. Just because I think he’s hot shouldn’t make a difference.
Everett: Ok
The next text that comes through has his address and an enquiry about what my usual Chinese order is.
Everett: Orange Chicken and egg rolls. See you in 15.
I grab my baseball cap, slip on my shoes, head out the door. It doesn’t take long to find his apartment building. He buzzes me in, and I climb the stairs to his second-floor apartment.
“Hey,” he greets me at his door when I reach the second-floor landing.
It’s jarring to see him dressed so casually, no bowtie in sight, no pressed slacks or button up shirt. Granted, I’ve only laid eyes on him a few times, but I’ve already come to associate his style with being rather…dapper. Although, I have to admit, he doesn’t look half bad in a pair of sweatpants and a graphic tee either.
“Hey,” I say, stepping inside as he pulls the door wide open and moves out of the way.
“The food should be here in twenty or so,” he tells me as I kick off my shoes. “And as far as the grand tour, this is pretty much it.” He waves his hands around at the small, open concept apartment. “My bedroom is through there, along with a bathroom. Not all that exciting to be honest.”
He clearly has an eye for decorating. There are little touches everywhere that make the place look homey. I had to ask Val to help me decorate when I bought my house.
“What’s that?” I ask, nodding toward the large wire cage in the corner of the living room.
“My baby,” he answers, waving me over to see. It looks like a pretty typical rodent cage— disposable bedding, a water bottle attached to the side of the cage, a dish of food, an exercise wheel. I duck down a little to get a better look inside and find something curled up in the little wooden hut.
“What is it?”
Watson opens the door and reaches inside, moving the wooden structure and revealing a spikey little rodent.
“A hedgehog,” he answers, picking it up and pulling it out. “This is Fermata.”
The hedgehog in his hand yawns and starts to snuffle around like he’s looking for food.
“He’s kind of cute,” I say, reaching out cautiously to pet the top of his head with one finger. He squeaks and curls up in a little ball. “Shit, I didn’t mean to scare him.”
“It’s okay, he’s a little shy, but he’ll warm up to you in a few minutes,” he assures me, holding out the small animal. I hold my hands out in an awkward, cupped motion, and he drops the rodent into them with a smile.
The little guy is so light in my hand, and I can feel every rapid breath it takes. Wats is right: after a few minutes, Fermata unballs himself and starts to sniff curiously at my hand.
“Will he bite?” I ask.
“Sometimes,” he says, seeming unconcerned, chuckling at what I’m sure is a horrified expression that crosses my face. “He’s gentle, he hardly ever breaks skin.”
“Hardly ever?” I repeat. “That’s not exactly reassuring.”
Watson grabs a few toys and plastic tunnels out of a tub next to the cage, then gestures for me to follow him. We end up sitting on the floor with the rodent accoutrements spread out and the hedgehog happily playing on the floor.
“This is different,” I say, humor dripping from my tone. Of all the possible scenarios I imagined when he invited me over, playing with a hedgehog never once crossed my mind.
He shoots me an adorable smile. “Never a dull moment with me.”
“I can see that.”
The door buzzer rings, and Fermata makes another one of those startled squeaks and curls up again.
“You want to get that while I put up a little enclosure so he won’t wander off?”
“No problem,” I agree, getting up, my knees cracking as I heave myself off the floor.
Watson groans as he gets up as well and then laughs. “Fuck, sitting on the floor was a bad idea.”
I chuckle in agreement as I make my way to the door to buzz the delivery person in. I collect the food and take it into the kitchen, setting the bags on the counter and washing my hands.
“Should we be civilized and eat in the kitchen, or are you cool on the couch with a movie?” he asks.
“I’m easy,” I answer.
“Good to know,” he jokes, arching an eyebrow at me.
My face flushes hot, and