Without annoying, sexy thoughts getting in my way.
Flynn is leaning back against the counter, drinking a glass of water. He's dressed in a pair of shorts, a gray t-shirt that is soaked with sweat, and running shoes. His face glistens with moisture and his hair is sticking up in a thousand different directions.
I try not to notice the way his bicep bulges when his arm curls upward to bring the glass to his lips.
Or the way his lips rest softly against the glass.
Or the way his throat moves as he swallows.
I have to restrain myself from walking to the refrigerator and slamming my forehead into it so these thoughts will go away. Instead, I walk to the coffee pot and pour myself a cup.
"You're up early," he observes.
I pull the milk out and add a splash to my cup. "So are you. Already went for a run?"
"Yeah. I had strange dreams last night and just couldn't get into a good sleep."
"You and me both," I mutter.
"Mine were crazy... I was at a party with Eminem and Prince Charles and they were arguing over how to make the chicken potpie that we were eating. That was the one that woke me up." He flashes me a dimpled smile. "What were yours about?"
I almost choke on the coffee I'm drinking but I'm able to force the hot liquid down the right pipe. "I don't remember. I'm sure nothing important."
Finishing off his water, he lays the glass in the sink. "I'll take Capone out for you before I hop into the shower."
Oh, God. Thoughts of him in the shower cause my mind to burst with color for just a moment, but then I shake myself back to reality. "No need. I took him out and fed him before I had my shower."
His eyebrows rise. "Wow. You were up really early. Must have been some dream."
If only he knew.
"So, what are your plans on your last day before heading back to work? I'll finish up your laundry for you."
"Rowan," Flynn says, his tone only slightly chiding. "You don't have to do my laundry."
The old Rowan... the one who, just three days ago, would have torn into Flynn for that, doesn't make an appearance. The new Rowan... the one that wants to build this friendship with Flynn, handles it just a bit differently.
"Yes, I do." I smile at him but my tone is firm. "You promised you'd let me earn my keep until I could get a job."
Holding his hands up in surrender, he says, "Fine. Have at it. Just don't starch my underwear."
I snicker. That would be a good prank to play on him, and that makes me snicker even more, because the old Rowan didn't pull pranks or joke around.
"What's so funny?"
Shaking my head and trying to wipe the smile from my face, I take another sip of coffee. "Nothing. But no starch in the underwear, I promise."
Flynn shrugs his shoulders and pushes away from the counter. He walks up to me and stands very close... just staring down. My breath hitches and I fight hard to hold his gaze. He does nothing more than raise a hand to tuck my hair behind my ear, and the light touch of his fingertips on my skin almost causes me to convulse.
I take a quick step back, enough to put room between his overwhelming closeness. His hand drops and he also takes a step back, looking embarrassed. I'm equally hot in the face, because that wasn't casual flirting. That was a moment of tenderness that scares the crap out of me and makes me yearn at the same time.
Clearing his throat, he says, "Actually... I was thinking about going to the movies today. Are you interested?"
I mentally calculate the money I have left. After buying clothes, a cell phone, some toiletries and groceries that Flynn chewed me out for buying, I have $283.00 left to my name. I put in applications to a few of the businesses around Flynn's apartment, but no one has invited me to an interview yet. I need to take care of the few bucks I have left and I need to find a way to earn money so I can pay my own way.
"I don't think so. But thanks."
Flynn studies me for a second. "If it's about the money, I'll pay."
I shoot him an exasperated look and walk into the living room. Capone is curled up on the couch, snoozing hard. "Don't go there, Flynn. You've done too much for me already."
"Come on, Rowan. It's just a movie... and maybe some popcorn."
"No, thanks," I say firmly. "Besides... I do have to run an errand today."
I head down the hallway, walking into Flynn's room. The second day here, I cleaned his room from top to bottom, and he has amazingly kept it clean since then. I open his closet and grab his clothes hamper.
When I turn, Flynn is right there and grabs the hamper from me. "Need a ride for your errand?"
He walks out of his room and heads back to the kitchen, setting the basket down in front of the stacked washer/dryer unit that
takes up the majority of his pantry.
"Thanks," I mumble in appreciation for carrying the hamper for me. Although, it sort of defeats the purpose of me earning my keep. "But I don't need a ride. I can take the train."
"Okay," he says, but I can tell he's disappointed. "Where are you going?"
I hesitate, because I know Flynn won't like where I'm going. The old Rowan would have come up with a lie. It would have flown from my lips without a second thought and without a trace of guilt. But I can tell my friendship with Flynn is important because I don't want to lie to him.
I start sorting through his laundry, throwing the whites in the washer. "I'm actually going to get some money that's owed to me... at the bar where I used to work. They owe me a paycheck."
One of the things I like best about Flynn is that he doesn't get mad, or angry, or loud... especially when he has reason to. He merely raises his eyebrows at me and says, "Are you sure that's a good idea? Juice could be waiting for you."
His calm reasoning helps. It's something I've thought about a lot and it's what has put me off from heading to Zeke's before now. But Zeke owes me about three hundred bucks and that could go a long way toward paying some expenses to Flynn.
"I know," I answer. "But I need that money. I figure if I go early in the day, chances of Juice being there are slim. He's like a vampire...loves the night too much."
"Well, I'll come with you--just in case."
"Absolutely not," I tell him emphatically.
Flynn turns away and heads back toward the bathroom, no doubt to take a shower. "Try to stop me," he says over his shoulder. "And if you try to leave out of here while I'm in the shower, you won't like it once I catch up to you." His tone is firm, slightly menacing, and the alpha nature is a little hot.
Okay... a lot hot!
I open my mouth to yell out a retort but I hear the bathroom door shut and realize it would be useless.
Flynn will be in the bathroom for only about ten minutes. He always showers fast and doesn't shave on his days off.
Weird... the things I'm coming to know about him.
I glance at the clock that hangs on the kitchen wall, calculating if I can get down to the train station before Flynn catches up to me.
Probably not.