Red Shoes, Black Coffee (Red & Black #2)

19 | Boxer shorts

Ada

Since now on, my address is going to be 'Jed's couch'. He only has one bedroom in his studio, and I refuse to sleep in one bed with Jed, so all I had left was his couch. I'm not complaining, - it's not nearly as uncomfortable as it sounds. It's big enough on its own and last night, Jed figured it could be opened and made into a makeshift bed. In fact, when it's rolled away, it's bigger than the bed I sleep in my dorm room. I can roll and thrash all night long and I won't fall over the side.

Of course, the two of us needed to go through an epic argument first. Jed insisted I had to be the one to sleep in the bed. I disagreed. He said he wouldn't be able to sleep at night, knowing he was lying in bed while I had to sleep on the couch. I stated that if he didn't like it, I could go back to my dorm at any point. He tried to convince me that it would diminish his manhood if he let me be the one to take the couch. I told him exactly where he could shove his gentlemanly gestures and locked myself in the bathroom.

I thought I'd lost this argument by surrendering. But when I came out twenty minutes later, the couch was rolled out, and the bed was made. Taken by the gesture, I didn't provoke any more fights. I simply crawled into my makeshift bed and realized just how tired I was. My previous lack of sleep has taken its toll. I was only awake long enough to hear Jed open the door to his little bathroom. I was out before he could turn on the water in the tap.

Right now, it's around seven o'clock and I'm lying in bed, trying to wake up. I don't start my classes until ten, but I like to have some time to get ready before I go out. Besides, I'm going to need a little bit more time to get to school, now that I no longer live in the dorms. Only yesterday, I needed five minutes to get from my room to the class. Right now, I'll be lucky if I make it in half an hour.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand, stretching. The room is dark, no light streaming in through the curtains covering the lone window right next to the couch. I cock my head to the side, trying to figure whether I'd drawn them before I went to sleep or not. I don't remember doing so. Jed must have closed them after I'd passed out.

I shake my hands. I don't like how much heart gets all too mushy at the thought.

The space between the edge of the bed and the window is so small I don't even have to take a step to part the blinds. Hell, I couldn't take a step even if I wanted, the crevice is so little. If I were any fatter, I don't think I'd even be able to fit my legs in there.

The view outside Jed's window isn't... breathtaking. The only window in his studio looks out onto a cement backyard with only a few metal bins and a carpet hanger. Not exactly the view to come to your mind at the thought of a New York apartment, but oddly, I discover it doesn't bother me at all.

I turn, stretching my arms over my head. My process of stretching is, however, stopped midway, interrupted by my horrified shriek.

Jed is standing in the living room. It took me a second to realize it's him, hence my cry of terror. When I take in his outfit, - or lack of it, thereof, - I get the sudden urge to scream again.

Jed is wearing boxer shorts. Blue boxer shorts with a green chequered pattern. I don't know why I stare long enough to notice. I don't know why I stare at all.

Because those boxer shorts, - they're the only thing he has on. Literally.

Both of us freeze like two stags in a headlight, legs frozen to the ground and eyes wide. Me, additionally, with my arms still flung over my head.

I think the last time I've been this mortified was when my brother saw me topless after having made out with Jed.

I blink, being the first one to focus. I tear my gaze away from his... his lower part and focus on his face with all my might. "W-where are your clothes?" I stammer.