Page 39 of Falling Madly
“It’s just that there’s nothing to do and when I sit down, completely idle, my thoughts go crazy.” My voice wobbled.
He smiled compassionately. “Of course, they do. You’ve had a rough day. A really rough day.”
“I wish I could exercise. I need to move my arms and legs. I need to do something.” Anxiety was quickly getting the best of me, but I couldn’t hide it with him. Not this time.
“Well, you’re in luck, because I found a laundromat that was open late, and I managed to get you some clothes that might fit better than mine.”
“Really?”
“There’s a catch, though.” He bit his lip.
“What? Did you bring me someone else’s dirty laundry?”
“Oh, God. No.” He laughed so hard that his shoulders shook.
He followed me into the office, carrying his huge rucksack and another overnight bag across the floor. I guided him to what I’d now decided was the homeliest corner, right by the kitchendoorway with its glowing warm light, framed on one side by a cable pole. It was a nice enough spot to sit.
I hated sitting on the floor in my high-waisted jeans, though. Thanks to the late hour and the hearty stew, they felt like a corset. I’d already opened the button and the zipper to be able to breathe.
“I wouldn’t mind changing into whatever you have for me, as long as it’s stretchy and washed.” I glanced longingly at his bag, leaning on the wall.
“I’m so glad you put it like that because it is stretchy and washed. But it’s also… themed.”
“What do you mean?”
He unzipped the bag, pulled out a small plastic bag and handed it to me, his eyes filled with glee. I opened it, unearthing a pair of striped leggings. What was that color? I shifted closer to the kitchen light source. Oh, yes. Red and green.
“There’s also a matching top.” Trevor helped me pull out the second item.
It jingled. Of course, it fucking did. Because it was the top half of an elf costume, complete with a hem and sleeves that were cut in a zigzag pattern. I raised an eyebrow at him.
“It’s a laundromat. They obviously don’t sell clothes, but they can donate items that haven’t been picked up after eight weeks.”
I nodded, staring at the odd outfit. Sure. It was about eight weeks since the height of Christmas season, and God was clearly on a mission to see how much humiliation I could take in one day. I could only steer into the skid.
“Wow,” I said. “This is not from Temu. I think it’s homemade.” I rubbed my thumb across the material. “Feels like cotton.”
“That’s the spirit!” He grinned.
“You didn’t happen to bring an extra T-shirt or anything I could drown inside? Because I don’t mind mixing and matching.And it is a bit cold, even with the heater on. I can always put my jacket back on, but I’d rather use it as an extra blanket.”
“I have a couple of Henleys,” he said, pulling one out of his bag. “But neither of them is fresh out of the laundry, I’m afraid. That’s another reason I went into that laundromat and begged them to find me something.” He grimaced. “The cabin doesn’t have a washer yet, so things have been piling up a wee bit. But now that I know where the full-service laundromat is…”
“Great!” I grabbed the Henley and retreated into the kitchen to get changed.
Which one was worse? Looking like a fully kitted elf or a half-elf that smelled like Trevor? Or rather, who had to inhale Trevor’s smell all night? I brought the sweater to my face and concluded that it didn’t smell bad. On the contrary. It was a mix of laundry powder and something so masculine it made my body jolt awake, fueling a need that had to go unmet, especially tonight. Tonight was about survival.
To my surprise, the elf costume fit me like a glove. “Was there a hat or shoes that go with this?” I called through the door. “Maybe a belt with a giant buckle? I feel like it’s missing something.”
What I would have given to be able to slide my feet into warm slippers… or, better yet, crawl into a real bed in a warm home.
“I left the shoes and the reindeer behind. Too bulky.”
“Ah, okay.”
“But I did bring you a toothbrush if you’d like?”
“Yes, please!”
