2. Rexford, Idaho

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2. Rexford, Idaho

At some point, I've just come to accept "Steve" as his name, as he's never going to give me his actual name. I don't blame him. We're strangers to each other. But now, that's upgraded to roommates.

It's shocking, but I guess it's not at the same time. He's got a lot that he didn't when I found him on the road. Why would he want to leave, anyway?

He's also been pulling his weight. He actually helped me clean up the mess that was the place when I brought him home. For the most part he hung out at the house.

Today is no different. This time, he's trying to take it upon himself to make breakfast in the house. How do I know? I smell something burning from my bedroom, to which I leap out of bed and trot down the hall to make sure my kitchen isn't on fire. It's not, thank God, but Steve is trying helplessly to put it out. He looks totally clueless as to what to do.

I sigh and nudge him out of the way so I can put out the black, burning ball that is the attempt at breakfast. I look at Steve sympathetically.

"Did you take your eyes off it?" I ask.

"I might have..." He doesn't meet my eye. "I was in the refrigerator looking for something."

"Don't kick yourself. I'm just glad the house is still existing." I chuckle. "How about we just go out for breakfast instead?"

"Sierra, you don't need to do that for me. I'm already taking—"

"Please, I insist." I move the burned breakfast into the trash can. "Get a shower if you haven't and get changed."

Steve passes me so he can find the bathroom. I hear the shower go on faintly, so I know he's getting ready. I pass the bathroom to get back into my bedroom. I don't choose sweats, just a simple jeans, t-shirt, and jacket combo. I rarely go anywhere without the jacket. I'm only jacketless at home.

As I'm straightening myself out in the bedroom, Steve pops his head in, or rather, his entire body. I cry out, covering my eyes.

"What?" he panics. "What is it?"

"Decency, Steve! Decency!" I don't uncover my eyes, because I know the first place they'll travel is his down under. "Towel, underwear, I don't care!" This shouldn't be this traumatizing. Not that I've never seen a guy's penis and whatnot, but I barely know this guy!

"Oh. Oh. Oops, sorry. It's safe now, Sierra."

"I don't believe you!" I turn away from the open doorway, trying to erase the glimpse in my head.

"No, really. Turn around, look."

There's no teasing tone, so I take the leap of faith. I'm still a little disturbed from a few seconds ago, but at least he's got the decency to keep his nether parts out of my line of vision by only poking his head in.

"T-thank you," I breathe out. "Next time, have a towel down there. Or underwear. Just...just don't let me see that again."

"I'll remember."

"Get dressed," I groan.

Steve scurries away, and I quickly walk past the closed bathroom door, looking for the keys to my truck.

I'll have a hard time getting that image out of my head.

* * *

"As much as I appreciate helping the homeless, you got to pull a little more weight around," I tell Steve over pancakes at the diner. It's odd, to watch him eat. He looks as though he barely gives himself time to swallow food before he pops in another mouthful. "Meaning it's time you get a job."

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