Smirt

“Yeah I got friends, and they have friends. And they have parties and I'm so awkward. . .”

“Holy shit!” My eyes opened as I heard a very familiar voice singing, along with the sound of an acoustic guitar. Where the hell did that guitar come from? Looking down at my legs, which were tangled in my grey bed sheets, I also wondered how I had made it home safely.

Almost everything that had happened the previous night was a blur; a distant memory I couldn’t provide details about. I blushed as I saw Christofer sitting beside me, strumming a few chords before placing the guitar near the bedside table. The guitar was actually Gavin’s; well, his ex-boyfriend’s. But he’d left it behind when he moved to Florida nearly a year ago. I think it was because he was in a band that had the chance to record an album there. Gavin never did tell me why he moved away.

“Good morning, doll,” Christofer said with a yawn, laying down and stealing the sheets from me. “Gavin is cooking breakfast, by the way, if you’re hungry.”

“Chris, get your ass up and off this bed.” I hovered over him, attempting to wrestle the sheets off his body. To no avail, of course. For a scrawny guy, he was pretty damn strong.

“Noooo. I woke up thirty minutes ago and waited for you to wake up too,” he murmured, burying his face in a pillow, “I’m fucking tired. Last night, you were such a mess.”

My jaw dropped. “What did I do? What did we do?”

Who wouldn’t be freaking out about the situation I was currently in? I mean, I trusted Chris, but that didn’t mean I trusted myself around him. We’d slept in my bed last night. What if we did something that would trigger regret and a strained friendship? I would never forgive myself if that happened.

Christofer was helping me move on after she left. Even though I didn’t tell him the full story about what happened.

I’ll tell him when the time is right.

Christofer mumbled something incoherent, waving his hand as if to say, “be quiet and go away now.” I grabbed a pillow and smacked the back of his head with it. He groaned and cursed under his breath, turning to face me with bloodshot eyes.

“Just so you know, we didn’t do anything. Alright? Ok.” His eyelids fluttered before closing. He moved his body so he faced the window, his back to me.

I stood up and walked over to the window, drawing the blinds so they were open. Sunlight poured into the room instantly. I smiled with satisfaction as Christofer removed the pillow from his face and stood up, stretching his arms above his head. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat as I noticed a sliver of skin showing. I saw the waistband of his boxers and the curve of his hips with one glance in his direction. However, I pretended not to notice and went to the kitchen, my stomach growling as I smelled food being cooked. Chris, who had actually followed me, hopped onto the island at the center of the kitchen. He was barefoot and his hair was messy, yet he still looked amazing.

And yes, the smile on his face helped too. He was so strange; one minute he was a little bitch, next, he was Mr. Happypants.

“Good morning, kids.” Gavin adjusted the temperature of the stove and gave us a knowing look. “Sit down and relax. I know you two had an. . .exciting night.”

“Gavin, damnit, shut up,” I said, sitting beside Christofer on the island.

“You two were quiet all night though,” he said, perplexed, “except I heard Chris singing and playing the guitar? Wait a minute.”

Gavin studied each of us in turn.

“What? Did you remember something important?” I asked, nodding in Christofer’s direction. He shrugged innocently.

“No,” Gavin replied slowly, “but I just realized something.”

“Which is?” Christofer questioned.

“You two didn’t fuck each other last night.”

Damn, this shit gets old.