Kiss and Tell

I went directly to my bedroom after we got home. I didn’t thank him before I went to, more or less, pout. I was real mature sometimes. He didn’t seem to mind, he just turned up extremely loud music and hopped into the shower.

This is why his neighbors hated him.

I was too used to being awake and active at this time of the night to sleep. After I heard the shower running, I changed from my work clothes and put pajama bottoms on and tank top, added slippers, and went to the kitchen. Leftover sweet and sour chicken from a Chinese place down the road greeted me. “Why, yes, I will eat you.” I told it, dumping it onto a fish-shaped plat and shoving it into the microwave. I think that’s what it was anyway.

This kitchen really needed to be cleaned.

I grabbed a beer and a fork and once it dinged, I took my hot food and beer to the couch. With remote in hand, I found some cheesy horror movie and settled in.

And then the shower stopped.

I heard the door open through the screaming on the tv, and Brendon was probably standing there, taking this scene in. He then, went to his room just to come right back out. He appeared next to me on the couch with a bag of chips and a beer.

“I love this movie.” He commented, grinning. He wasn’t wearing a shirt--again!--and red plaid pj pants. He was still damp form the shower, his hair just doing whatever it wanted.

I dragged my eyes away from him and focused on the movie and my food.

We sat there in silence, laughing at the movie from time to time. I heard him stifle a laugh when I flinched at something going on-screen. I shot him a half-hearted glare.

This was a side of Brendon I could tolerate.

I finished my beer, threw it on the ground and set my empty plate down there too. Brendon had gotten us soda’s after the beer ran out--we must be running low--and threw a blanket at me.

“Uhm, thanks.” I mumbled. I snuggled into the couch as he found the next movie to watch.

He made a sound of recognition. After he set the remote down, he settled himself on the couch again. He didn’t have a blanket. All those years of my mother telling me to share started nagging at my mind. I fought about it in my head for the opening credits until he noticed I was staring at him.

“May I help you?” He asked, sarcasm dripped from the words.

“Uh,” Was I really going to say this? “are you cold? You don’t have a blanket…” I felt my cheeks heat up. Oh, God, I was blushing!

His eyes lit up and all sarcasm was left behind. “That an invitation?”

I snorted. “Into the blanket, not my pants.”

He took me up on my offer, so we readjusted ourselves to fit under the blanket without touching. Was it me, or did it seem to get really hot in here all of a sudden? I didn’t like being this close to him. My heart was thumping and I couldn’t focus on the movie. I could tell you how many drinks he took of his soda, though.

And then the next thing I knew….