Picking up The Pieces

Always and Forever

Hi guys! Sorry for the delay! This chapter is almost 7,000 words to make up for it! Happy reading! This chapter is NSFW 🥴 Bobby's T-shirt in the media lololol

It was a quaint, modest home, more than likely used for short weekend getaways or bragging abilities, but it had this charm about it that you couldn't help but love.

Adorned with unconventional decor and knick-knacks, my body felt like it'd been transported to another time period. On the wall to my right resided a large platform bed, covered with lush quilts and throws, and lots of pillows.

The flatscreen mounted to the wall seemed out of place in a space with such an old-timey feel, but I guess you can't have an Airbnb without a television in 2019.

There's a couch in the corner and a bookshelf collecting dust beside it. Old literature like Moby Dick and Pride and Prejudice that look as if  they haven't been given the chance to stretch in years resting comfortably between the shelves.

A small kitchen off in another corner of the room seems to be furnished with everything we'd need, but I doubt it would be used. 

This place had everything I could want in a temporary home, almost everything.

I pause for a moment, noticing that there's something missing before it finally occurs to me

Where is the second bed?

"Bobby, where's the other bed?" I ask concerned.

Puzzled, he surveys the space. "You just reminded me. I'm confused too, is there another room?"

I take a moment to do a full 360 of the room, but don't see any entry point to another bedroom.

"I only see a front door, a door to the back balcony and a bathroom door. So..."

As he pulls out his phone, I realize that Airbnb lets you list a home as having two beds if there's a pullout couch or futon.

I aim a finger in the direction of the couch. "Bet the owner listed this as a two-bed house because of that couch."

I walk toward it, removing the cushions from the top, a cloud of dust coming up with them.

Sure enough, there's a handle for a pull out couch.

As I begin trying to set it up, I realize the job is a bit too much for my frame, and the bed refuses to budge.

"Here, let me." He says confidently, taking off his jacket. He's left in a crisp white tee, the sleeves stretch around his biceps and I can see the faint outline of his abs. The freckles on his arms dance as his muscles flex from the motion.

My earlier suspicions about him working out more had been confirmed in the most unintentional way and warmth spreads across my body as my imagination runs rampant. I was never one that cared about muscles and abs on men. It wasn't a dealbreaker or maker for me, but seeing this newly sculpted physique of his was definitely nice to picture when I-

"There we go!" He says triumphantly.

In a matter of seconds, he'd effortlessly pulled the bed out in one smooth movement.

I clear my throat, trying to make it seem like I wasn't just observing his movements with droll spilling down my chin.

"Show off, have you been working out?"

I already knew he had, I just wanted him to say it. I wanted him to know that I'd noticed, that I was admiring.

"Who me? Never a show off." he says, flexing his arms and smiling, "But I have had a lot more time to work out since I moved into the new apartment. There's a gym that residents can use 24/7. Plus, when we bro-... yeah. I've had all the time in the world to spend on myself." He shrugs his shoulders sadly.