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When I park in the driveway and reach the door, I’m sopping wet still, and I’m just hoping I don’t run into Loren Hale. Any other Hale will let me use their dryer, but I think he’d rather I walked around looking like he pushed me in a pool.
Xander opens the door. Prayers answered.
He hasn’t changed for homecoming yet. Still in a Dalton uniform, he’s looking me up and down. “What happened to you?”
“Fell into a lake,” I lie.
His frown deepens as he lets me inside. “Seriously?”
“Communed with duckies,” I say. “Had a nice chitchat about the status of their pond. All good things.”
Xander doesn’t dig further. “You can use the dryer. I’ll get you a change of clothes.”
Gotta love Hufflepuffs.
Laundry room is a short distance from the kitchen, and I make it there unseen. Once Xander leaves me with a pile of clothes and goes upstairs to get ready for the dance, I shut the door and realize there’s no lock.
I’ll be quick.
I open the dryer and start undressing. Tossing in my soaked Aerosmith shirt, my pants, boxer-briefs, and as I’m yanking off the first wet sock, the door swings open.
Loren Hale has entered the chat. “What the hell…?”
I stumble with my sock.
His glare springs to the ceiling, avoiding eye-contact with my dick.
I whirl around, my ass facing Lo. “Sorry, sir—I mean, Xander’s Dad.” Fuck me. “I, uh…” I tear off the second sock and toss both into the dryer. “I needed to use your dryer. Xander said it’d be okay.”
Lo is eerily quiet, and I wonder if he’s just staring at my tattoos. Like the dice on my ass—which I honestly thought Luna would accidentally see before her father. Or maybe he’s looking at the Wawa tattoo on my shoulder blade. Or the red devil inked with the words Not Today, Satan.
I gather Xander’s clothes and start dressing.
Turns out I’m the same size as a seventeen-year-old. Just rocking these tight boy jeans and a sick House Stark crewneck shirt. Don’t think his dad’s going to find it as cool, but I’ve gotten myself out of many sticky pickles. Wouldn’t be the first.
It’s just I haven’t been looking to cause more waves with Lo, and this feels like a tsunami. Not starting the dryer yet, I face Xander’s dad again.
He lowers his narrowed eyes onto his son’s clothes that I’m wearing. “I have a fifteen-year-old daughter in this goddamn house. What if she walked in and caught you undressing? Or Jesus Christ, what if she saw your dick dangling?”
“I—”
“What if my wife saw you? Did you not think about it?”
No, I thought about it. “I would’ve locked the door if I could’ve.” I rake a hand through my hair. “I just thought I’d be quick enough. I’m sorry. It was a bad idea.”
Can’t take it back now, though.
Luna must not be here. It’s another thought. She can’t be here or else he would’ve included her in his list.
I stare at him, and he’s just staring straight into me. Not gonna lie, it looks like he’s trying to devour my soul, and maybe I’d be frightened if I didn’t just come from Colin’s house. I’d rather be here, facing Loren Hale’s parental wrath, than be back there.
A million times over.
So I can’t even be slightly scared.
Maybe that irks him. I don’t know.
His brows cinch, thinking longer. “What was that on your shoulder?”
“Wawa’s logo—”
“No, the front of your shoulder. Near your collarbone.” He motions to his shoulder, where the spot would be on mine, but it’s covered by the Hale Stark shirt. “It was red.”
It was a burn mark. The cigarette burn. “A beauty mark. It alright if I start the dryer?” I ask him, tentatively.
He nods stiffly. “Your clothes won’t be dry before Homecoming.”
“I’ll just wear what I’ve got on,” I tell him. “Xander let me borrow his clothes. I didn’t want to be late for the dance.” I try to take a breath while I push start on the dryer. It rumbles to life, the noise breaking some tension.
“Why are your clothes even wet?” His accusatory tone sets me on edge. “Why is your hair dry?”
“Long story.” And thankfully, I don’t have to skirt around the truth and think about dishing out lies because Xander slips into the laundry in a fancy blood-red suit with matching slacks, silk tie, button-down, and pocket square.
The monochromatic style is dope. He looks like a million bucks.
“Uhhh, Dad?” He frowns. “You mad?”
“This isn’t what happy looks like, bub.” He uses a nickname that Wolverine calls his friends. Xander told me its origin when I heard his dad say “bub” to him, thinking he meant to say “bud” like he does with Maximoff. Xander’s not on We Are Calloway much, so I wasn’t surprised I’d never heard it on the show.
“I told Donnelly he could use the dryer,” Xander explains fast. “His clothes were wet. I didn’t think that’d be an issue.”
