Page 22 of Between Brothers

“You live out here?” he asked and I shook my head.

“I live in the house, but I have my own space out here. Well, except for the washer and dryer, they’re behind the bathroom, here. My dad wanted an office in the house to do the diner’s paperwork and deposits, so we converted the original laundry room in the house for him and moved the washer and dryer out here, since I do all the laundry anyways. It’s a good thing right now, too. I can dry these wet clothes.”

I think I was babbling because it was distracting me from how my teeth were trying to chatter. I shrugged out of my coat and hung it on the coat tree by the door, over the loaned helmet. Blue shrugged out of his coat and colorfully patched vest and hung it beside mine, his helmet followed by the strap on another branch of the old fashioned stand.

“Hang on,” I said and opened the bathroom door. I snatched the clean, dry towels off of the bar and handed him one. He put it across his shoulders and rubbed it over his hair. I went into the studio space and around to behind the bathroom. I opened up the shutter closet doors on their track by pulling the little knob and they folded, opening quietly revealing the washer and dryer.

I pulled some clean sleep shorts and a cami of mine out of the dryer, and put the rest of my clothes in there into one of the whicker carry baskets on top of the dryer to carry back into the house later. I checked the washer and there was nothing in it. I pursed my lips.

“I don’t have anything dry for you, let me grab a blanket from the loft.” I turned around, right into Blue’s arms. He caught me and stared down at me for a series of heartbeats before his mouth descended to mine.

I was shocked, but the attention wasn’t unwelcome. I closed my eyes and turned my face up to his kiss and it was magical. His lips were careful and soft where they moved against mine and I felt the tension leave my body, pouring out of my muscles even as the rain poured outside.

He broke the kiss and leaned back from me murmuring, “I’m fine. Do you have something dry to put on?” I nodded and he ordered gently, “Go change.”

“Okay, but put your wet things in the dryer,” I insisted.

He searched my face and nodded and I took my dry things up to the loft. I changed quickly and when I turned around, lowering my cami over my stomach, it was to see Blue, frozen down below, watching me. His shirt was off, and his boots and socks, and he looked absolutely delicious standing barefoot and in only his wet jeans against the polished cement floor.

I tossed a blanket down over the railing and he dropped his shirt to catch it. He smiled and I smiled back and said, “Let me know when you’re covered.”

I pointedly turned around, smiling to myself and gathered my wet things off my loft’s floor. I waited and heard an almost timid, “Okay.” I went down the ladder and found him sitting at my large worktable on my old metal stool, the burgundy chenille throw I’d tossed down to him knotted at his hip and his pile of wet things in his arms.

I took them with mine and padded barefoot across the cold cement to toss them in and to start the dryer. When I turned around, the rain raged harder, roaring against the roof, and my lights flickered.

“Ooooh, please don’t go out!” I pleaded, “I want your clothes dry and warm.” I shivered and Blue stood up, coming to me. He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me close, rubbing his hands up and down my arms to generate a warm friction.

“Not how I pictured our evening ending,” he said with a wry smirk, “but I’ll take it.”

I smiled and blushed a little, telling him the honest truth. “I’ve had fun.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

We were quiet a moment and he said, “It’s freezing down here.”

“Yeah, the cement’s cold. I can turn up the heat but it takes a while.”

“Can we go up there?” he asked and I swallowed hard.

“Sure, but… um…”

“Your virtue’s safe until you don’t want it to be… I’m not like that.”

Hot color flooded my cheeks and I closed my eyes briefly. “I didn’t mean it like that,” I said.

He rubbed my shoulders lightly and said, “I know…”

“I feel like you think that I think the worst of you.”

“Citizen’s usually do. It’s become a habit just thinking everyone thinks the worst. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way, though. I know you’re different.”

I looked up at him sharply and said “I am?”

“You are. I think that’s what drew me to you in the first place.”

I stepped back and took his hand, leading him around to the ladder to my loft. He followed me and I snapped off the track lighting that hung above my work tables, which were empty of any current projects. He let me go first up into the loft and when I reached the top, I flipped the switch on the wall to light the strands of Christmas lights along the beams. I stood by self-consciously while he stood up, head stooped from the low ceiling and took my sleeping arrangements in.

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