"He definitely wants to sleep with you," he taunts.
"Excuse me?" I look at him weirdly, "What are you even talking about."
"The way he touched your arm. That's what people do when they wanna fuck someone." He looks down at his paper and continues to...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It's 5:30 p.m. and it's time to leave. I clock out, hang up my apron, and order a vanilla coffee to go.
I drive home and pull into my driveway. I text Sage I'm going over to Elijah's as I walk over. I knock on the door and a few minutes later, Finn opens the door and he looks terrible.
"Hi, Lav," he croaks.
"Oh, are you okay?" I ask, following him in and shutting the door behind me.
"I have the flu," he coughs.
"Oh," I wipe my hands on my shirt. I hate getting sick, it's never a good outcome.
"Hey, sweetie!" His mom walks past me to go upstairs.
"Hi, Mrs. Rivera."
I walk into the living room and peek over the couch to see Finn almost passed out watching TV. "Where's your brother?"
"Which one? Elijah is—" He bursts into a coughing attack.
"Oh, jeez. It's okay, buddy. I'll find him." I quickly pat his head and wipe my hands once more.
I decide to slowly walk up the stairs and look around. All the doors are shut but I remember one door so I open it. Peaking inside, I see how well my paint has dried. It looks like it could use one more coat on the green wall, hoping to get it just a smidge darker.
I shut the door again and watch my feet as I walk with one foot on top of the other. I bump into something and that something steadies me by holding my forearms.
I'm met by a naked chest. My eyes slowly go up higher to meet Elijah's.
I suck my teeth. "Are you always naked?" I ask sarcastically.
"I could be." He shrugs.
I scoff and roll my eyes. "Ew. Notebook, computer, clothes, now."
"Only for you," he teases. He lets go of my arms and walks into his room. I can tell he just got out of the shower from his damp hair and the towel hanging around his naked neck. At least he has pants on.
"Do you wanna work in my room or downstairs?" he says, pulling down his black loose long-sleeve shirt to match his black sweats as he walks back out to me.
"Either one is fine," I lie.
"Finn is sick down there."
I shake off the invisible germs I feel on my body. "I know," I whine.
We walk to his room and I can feel his hand hover over my back guiding me. I ignore it because... well— I can.
Elijah opens his nightstand drawer and pulls out his laptop. He throws it on his bed, along with the notebook and pencil.
I stand awkwardly near the door, looking around his room.
"Come sit." He pats the spot next to him on the bed.
