“Friday?”
“Community center?” She smiles, her eyes flashing with laughter.
“Ah, yeah. You will.” I wink as she shuts the door and crosses the road to Livvy’s, her arms wrapped around her waist.
My eyes widen. Did I just wink?
“So, Gran tells us that you’re working for old man Roy.”
“I am,” I answer West as I sit down at the kitchen table with my toast.
“Is he still as crazy as he used to be?” He shovels his cereal in his mouth like a man who has never eaten, spilling milk over the side of the bowl. “Hey, Seb! You remember that time he chased us all with that drill!” He laughs and then snorts. “All because he thought we stole his hammer.”
Seb walks into the kitchen, his hair wet, water dropping off the ends onto his bare chest. I follow the path of the water as it makes its way down all of the grooves of his back muscles, finally gathering at the waistband of his gray sweatpants.
“We didn’t. You did,” he answers, his voice deep and rough like he’s only just woken up.
“What? I didn’t! It was you!” West gasps before he picks his bowl up and lifts it to his lips, slurping the milk. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows before he stands up, wearing the same thing that Seb is. The only difference is that West’s skin is covered in tattoos; I can’t see any uninked part of his skin.
My toast hangs mid-air as I stare at them. Being locked away with hundreds of girls and then women doesn’t exactly give you the opportunity to see men like this. And even though they don’t make me feel anything it still doesn’t hurt to stare.
“Do you ever wear clothes?” I blurt out, wincing as they both turn their gazes to me. “I mean…”
West lifts his arm, flexing his bicep and bringing it up to his lips. “Why wouldn’t I want to show off these guns?”
“Guns? You call those guns?” Seb lifts his arms and flexes, quirking his lip at the corner. “If those are guns, then these are drones, baby!”
I snort and shake my head at their antics as they start arguing over whose biceps are bigger.
“Lexi… come on, tell him I win!” West whines.
“Sorry, West.” I shrug. “But Seb’s are bigger.” I stand up and walk over to where they stand by the sink, dropping my plate in there and then walking out of the kitchen to the sounds of West’s groaning and Seb’s victory fist bump.
“I’m getting in the shower!” I shout behind me. The last time I didn’t announce that I was in the shower, one of them nearly walked in on me. To say I was embarrassed is an understatement, I couldn’t look them in the eye for days.
I head into the bathroom before jumping into the shower and washing my hair and body. I swipe my hand over the mirror once I’m out and brushing my teeth so that I can see my eyes. The brown is vibrant—alive—instead of the dead color that they used to be only a few months ago when I would look into the broken mirrors that were in the prison bathrooms.
I still find it strange being able to shower in one single room instead of a block; I can’t bring myself to lock the bathroom door, afraid to be in a confined space again.
Bathrooms bring back too many memories which is why I get in and out as quickly as I can, my heart beating out of my chest the entire time.
Once my teeth are brushed, I pull the door open, fixing my towel tighter around myself as I step out into the hallway and straight into a hard chest.
“Shit!”
A current runs through me as hands grip my biceps to steady me. I look up, noting the clothes on this body and knowing that it isn’t West or Seb. I gulp, slowly bringing my gaze up to his face. “Evan?”
“I… I… erm…” He swallows as he stares down at me, his hands causing me to shiver. His grip lets up and his fingers trail down my arm and over the bird tattoos. “I like these.”
“Thanks,” I whisper, caught in the bubble that he seems to have created with his body and voice. Butterflies take flight in my stomach the longer he touches me and I almost want him to never stop.
I want to tell him the story about each and every tattoo, but I can’t bring myself to focus on anything but the pads of his fingers as they leave goose bumps in their wake.
His hand continues to wander, following the outline of the birds before it gets to my hand.
“Shit, sorry.” He jumps back, almost as if I’ve burned him and I frown. Did I do something wrong?
“Evan!” My head whips toward the end of the hallway where Seb stands, leaning against the wall and watching our exchange. I pull tighter on my towel, my feet still not able to move. “I see you know Lexi.”