His entire place was an explosion of colors.
There were prints on the walls, the couch was a bright green with red and blue cushions on it. His bed had all kinds of patterns and colors. This was exactly what I’d expected Camilo’s apartment to be like—vibrant, just like him.
I turned around and saw he was leaning against the counter quietly, letting me explore.
“I told you it was small.”
I walked up to him and put my hands around his waist. “You have no idea how happy I am to be here right now. I thought our evening was doomed.” I kissed his cheek and he tightened his arms around me. “Thanks for letting me come over.”
He shrugged, but his eyes shone. “Thanks for calling.”
“I’ll always call, Camilo.” He nodded, and even though he didn’t respond, it felt comfortable, like we were back in sync. After another minute, I decided to go for that shower after all.
“If you were serious I’ll take a shower while you warm up the food. I’ll be quick.” He nodded and pointed to a door next to the bathroom.
“There are towels on the shelf in there.”
I grabbed one and stepped into his bathroom. Thinking once again that I couldn’t remember the last time I’d wanted anyone this much.
Camilo
Tom waseverywhere.
His body, his smell, all of him had taken over my apartment. I was feeling so many things just from having him in my space. I couldn’t believe how at ease he was. I’d been nervous he’d walk in and look down on my tiny apartment. But of course he hadn’t.
I took him in as he walked out of the bathroom in nothing but his jeans. His biceps bulged as he dried his hair off with my towel, and I had to dig my nails into my hands to keep from jumping him.
He must have noticed that my breathing got a little faster looking at all those muscles and tanned skin, because the fucker winked at me.
Smug bastard.
The effect his naked chest and sexy wet hair were having on me was significant. I waved my hand at my little table to indicate we could eat, to see if I could maybe distract myself with food.
He groaned when he saw everything laid out and walked over. “I’m starving. Thanks for letting me shower, I neededthat,” he said as he yanked his t-shirt back on, mercifully shielding me from his lust-inducing torso.
“No problem, do you want a beer?”
“Sure,” he answered while pulling out a chair.
I grabbed a couple of bottles from the fridge and sat across from him. When I put the bottles on the table, he beamed at me after looking at the brand.
“You drink Presidente?” he asked delighted. The imported Dominican beer was pretty easy to find in Harlem these days, but I’d only bought it because when I’d seen it at the bodega, it had reminded me of Tom. I was corny as hell these days.
I lifted a shoulder trying to act like it was no big deal, but Tom’s presence was like truth serum. “When I saw them I thought of you, and I got them because I’m now a walking cliché.” He laughed at my words, like I was being adorable, and leaned in to kiss me.
When he pulled back, he had the confident grin he sported every once in a while, like he knew I was a goner for him. “You were thinking about me.”
“I can’tstopthinking about you, that’s my problem, Tom.” I said, unable to mask my exasperation.
I pointed at the food, “It’s going to get cold,” I said ready to be done with this sudden exploration of my thirstiness.
I’d arranged the stuff he’d brought on a big platter. With theinjera, the sour crepe-looking bread used to scoop up the sauces and stews in Ethiopian meals, on a plate to the side so we could both eat off the platter.
Before digging in, he grinned at me again, like he knew what I was doing but was letting me get away with it. “This looks great.”
I lifted a shoulder. “Hey, you brought the food, I just arranged it.”
The corner of his eyes crinkled. He seemed to find my grumpiness endlessly delightful.
