Page 47 of Tell Me Something

Lying there beside him after, I realized that my underwear and pants were still around my knees and his were in much the same shape.

“So I take it that you don’t need the pills any longer?” I asked lightly, hoping he wouldn’t take offense.

Chuckling, he pushed up and searched my face. “It would appear not. If only I’d known the cure was a twenty-two-year-old, I wouldn’t have wasted the last few years. It kind of irks me that Dr. Winters was right about it not being a physical condition caused by his surgery.”

“Hmm, well if you had known four years ago that a twenty-two-year-old was the answer, it wouldn’t have been me, and I don’t like that scenario. Unless maybe, in that case, an eighteen-year-old would’ve been the solution.”

“Twenty-two is bad enough. When do you turn twenty-three?”

“Hoping for a smaller age gap?” I teased.

“I’ll take anything I can get.”

“My birthday is in March and yours?”

“It’s in July. So I get four whole months when there’s only a nine-year difference instead of ten.” He rolled off and pulled his pants up. “I’m going to run home and change, maybe take a quick shower. Then if you’re up for it, I can come back and we can eat?”

It didn’t make sense that he wasn’t inviting me to his place, but I was too happy to be back in my own space to argue. “Sounds good.”

I dashed into the shower after watching the door close.

A short time later, I was taking down two plates when Josh came back in, not bothering with a knock. His hair was slightly damp, and he smelled wonderful.

“I ordered the drunken noodle, some pad thai, peanut butter chicken stuff, and some pork dumpling things. Is there anything you don’t want?” He opened the bag and took out the boxes to set them on the counter.

“Nope, it all sounds great. Thanks for thinking of dinner.”

Dishing up a little out of each box, I watched as he did the same. I walked over to the bed and sat on it cross legged with my plate. Considering I didn’t have any place to sit aside from this, I wondered why we weren’t at a table in his place.

He joined me and gave me a curious look. “Do you wear that to bed?”

I glanced down at my oversized Stanford T-shirt and blue running shorts. “Yeah, why?”

His eyes twinkled with laughter.

“What? Why did you ask that?” I was totally lost on what was so funny.

Shrugging, he put his fork down. “Okay, don’t take this the wrong way, but you dress impeccably at work. That gave me a different impression of what you might wear at night.”

I guess I’d never thought about what to wear to bed as none of the guys I’d previously been with had ever spent the night. My eyes shifted from my attire to his. I was fairly certain his lounge pants and T-shirt cost more than what I made in a day. “Well, I have my mom to thank for—”

Josh’s phone interrupted the rest of my admission about inheriting my work wardrobe.

As he looked at the number on his screen, he frowned. “I have to take this.” He then stepped out of my apartment, closing the door behind him.

By the time I finished eating, he hadn’t returned. After clearing my plate, I packed up the boxes and then left his plate on the counter. I was about ready to call it a night when he finally did come back, looking annoyed.

“I, uh, have a lot of work to do this evening. I’ll probably be pretty busy tomorrow, too.”

He was evading something, and my eyes rolled of their own volition. In fact, since tomorrow was Saturday, I’d been looking forward to doing anything I wanted. “I have plans tomorrow, too. Let me know if you need anything workwise. Otherwise, I’ll see you Sunday afternoon when we leave for Charlotte. The car will be here at two o’clock.”

“Wait. What plans do you have?”

Glad my back was to him, I turned slowly and smiled. “You first.” I said it sweetly enough that he knew the point I was making.

“Touché. I’ll see you Sunday. Sweet dreams.” He kissed me long and slow before sighing with regret and leaving.

I puttered across the room and plugged in my phone to charge. As an afterthought, I plugged in the iPad and logged into messenger. I was pathetic, already missing him.