The Foxe & the Hound

“Looks like you two had fun,” I say, opening the door wide enough for them to step through.

“Did you just take a shower?” he asks, amused by my current state, no doubt.

“Insane yoga,” I whisper on a pained breath.

He laughs. “Sounds like you should have just come running with us.”

He unhooks the leash and Mouse takes off for his water bowl. I limp into the kitchen and pour Adam another glass of water then get one for myself as well. We’re back to standing across from each other in the tiny space, just like earlier, except now we’re both dripping with sweat and I think I need to tell Mr. Hall the air conditioning in my unit is on the fritz again because the air is hot, stagnant.

Neither one of us talks as we finish our water, and I’m not brave enough to meet his eyes. Instead, I focus on Mouse, who laps up water from his bowl and then plops down right between us.

“Was he a good running partner?” I ask Adam.

“Terrible at first, but after the first mile, he seemed to get the hang of it.”

I smile down at my dog. “Hear that Mouse? You were only terrible at first. That’s progress!”

Mouse wags his tail.

Adam laughs and I brave a glance up to him. He’s watching me—studying me, more like. I want to smooth my hand over my hair. Fix my ponytail. Tug my tank top up a bit. I think it shifted while I was working out and I can’t be sure, but I think I’m now rocking a little more cleavage than is appropriate. But, if I adjust my tank top, I’ll be drawing more attention to my breasts, and that won’t do. After the sheer bra fiasco, I’m trying to convince Adam I’m not desperately trying to seduce him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, tilting his head.

That damn smile is there. So confident. So appealing.

I look away. “What? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Your eyes almost looked like you were…”

Turned on?!

“Bored,” I quip, moving around him to drop my cup in the sink. We need to move out of my kitchen. I’ve never thought so before, but it’s basically a muggy sex den. Such a confined space, with all those pots and pans and spatulas…I shiver.

Adam’s phone rings and I tell him to take the call, but he shakes his head.

“It’s not a call, it’s a reminder I set a week ago to alert me about a chamber of commerce meeting I have to attend tonight.”

“When is it?”

“In 20 minutes. Shit.”

He probably doesn’t have time to go home and change.

“I still have my work clothes in my car…” he says, thinking out loud. Then his gaze drags to my bathroom, and I catch on after an awkward amount of time.

“Oh! Oh, yeah, do you want to shower here?”

He drags a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to intrude. I just completely forgot about this thing—”

I wave away his concerns. “No, you aren’t intruding. You just exercised my crazy dog! The least I can do is let you shower.”

He thanks me and runs out to his car for his clothes. I use the thirty seconds to scramble around and confirm that nothing embarrassing is left in my shower. When he walks back in, I’ve just finished hiding my bikini trimmer. I whip around and smile.

“Sorry, I don’t have any manly shower products. You’re going to end up smelling like lavender.”

He shrugs. “It’s either that or B.O.”

I catch a whiff of the sweat and manly musk wrapped up with a hint of his body wash. I’m half inclined to tell him he’d be fine going to the meeting as is, but I don’t say that because he nearly accused me of being turned on and I don’t know what would happen if he knew I was turned on. Would he still let me sell him a house? Would he feel awkward around me from then on?

I don’t want to find out.

“All right, so I’ll just be right out here,” I say, pointing to the hallway.

He nods and turns the shower on. Even after he closes the door, I can hear him moving around. My apartment is too small.

Clothes hit the floor then the shower curtain gets tugged to one side. Feet step into the tub and water splashes down Adam’s naked body. I pinch my eyes closed just as a bottle gets uncapped.

He’s lathering himself up, maybe washing his hair, and I can’t take it. I turn on music and hand wash the glasses we used for water. It only takes me a second, so I wash them again.

Mouse is staring up at me.

He knows my secrets.

He knows my shame.

I shoo him away and wash the glasses again.

The shower turns off and the shower curtain gets pulled to the side again. I sigh with relief. In a few minutes he’ll be dry and clothed and out of my apartment, and if I happen to crawl into bed and pull out Señorita Vibrator, well, that’s a secret I’ll take to the grave.