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I shake my head.
“Were you both staying in the same room?”
I nod. “Yeah. He didn’t confront me, but, but”—I swallow, my mind returning to that time in the hotel—“he demanded I dye his hair, since I lost the race. He wanted to look nice for his girlfriend when he returned.” I wince. “And then things got a little weird.”
“You have got to be kidding me.” I laughed while watching him tie a white towel around his neck and plop himself into a chair in front of me. “There aren’t even plastic bags down. What if I make a mess?”
“You won’t,” Alex said while rolling his eyes. “It’s only my roots. My hair is so blond. You can’t mess it up.”
I stared at the box dye and with a sigh, I grabbed the gloves on the nightstand and shoved them on.“Don’t blame me if you look like shit.”
“Oh, I most definitely will.”
After taking out the packaging and squirting the red dye into the small bowl provided, I dipped the brush into the contents and began painting Alex’s roots. He was right. It wasn’t so difficult. I just needed to get all the yellow strands. It kinda reminded me of paint by number. Only this time, I needed one color and I was painting a live human.
I circled around Alex, going for his roots near his face. At this angle, I was closer to him, closer than I should be. I could feel his breath on my arm. I could feel his nose nuzzling my elbow. My breath hitched, but I refused to look down, knowing if I did, more of those strange feelings would pop up. My hand trembled as I felt the heat rising up the back of my neck, my heart fluttering with every passing minute.
Like a fucking moron, I dropped the brush, watching it plummet to the ground and stain the gray carpet with red. I reached for it, but stopped when I noticed Alex’s blue eyes on me. He was so close. Had he been watching me the whole time? Where was all this coming from? And why was I leaning toward him? Oh, God. Oh, fucking God!
I grabbed the brush and shoved it toward him before turning on my heel.“Dye your own fucking hair!” I shouted while stomping toward the door. “I told you I would fuck it up.”
“What the hell, Seth? You didn’t fuck anything up.”
“You don’t know that!” I shouted while throwing open the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To tell the fucking receptionist that we fucked up the carpet!” I shouted before slamming the door behind me.
Recounting the story to Dr. Forrester, it didn’t seem all that bad now. Yeah, we gazed at each other, but there’s nothing strange about that, right? We didn’t kiss each other. There was nothing touchy-feely. I dropped the brush and fucked up the floor. That happens all the time.
“So what happened after you left the room?”
I shrugged. “I did exactly what I said I would do. I told the receptionist about the carpet.” I chuckle while shaking my head. “Boy, were they not happy. But Alex cleaned it up pretty quickly and he tipped them. Alex is loaded. I told you that, right?”
Dr. Forrester gives me a knowing look. She knows I’m trying to change the subject. That woman can read me like a fucking book. “And did anything else happen between the two of you?”
“Nope,” I say with a forced smile. “We spent the rest of the night in silence.”
“Uh-huh. And do you think that’s a good thing?”
“Yep.”
“Seth, I think you need to talk about this with Alex.”
“Hard disagree,” I say while shaking my head. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Then why do you have that need to control again?”
I shrug. “Probably because I had two ice cream cones. That’s a lot of calories, you know.”
Dr. Forrester shakes her head. She doesn’t say anything, which makes me feel even worse. My hands fist and I jump up, feeling like I’m being put on the spot. “I’m not gay!” I shout while stomping my foot.
“I didn’t say you were.”
“Well, I’m not. I have a girlfriend. A hot girlfriend. One I really enjoy having sex with. All the sex. In fact, I’m going to go home and have sex with her as soon as I’m out of this.”
“Wait, Seth,” Dr. Forrester says while lifting her hands, looking like she’s some sort of fucking horse whisperer. “Calm down. I don’t think you’re gay.”
