Book One: The Viper's Bite

Seventeen

No sleep was had that night.

As I stared at the ceiling as the sun started to poke through the curtains, willing my thoughts to stop rolling around in my head like wild animals in battle, Randy's grip around my waist tightened, his nose pressing deeper into my neck. The urge to turn around and curl myself into his chest was fought - beaten down with a club - and instead I peeled his arm off of me, sliding of of the bed and going to the bathroom.

In the dim mornning light I started towards the other end of the room when I stepped on something particularly sharp. A breath was sucked out of me and I jumped back, looking to see what it was.

Tubes of lip balm, papers and books, a bottle of water, all lying around my keys, sitting harmlessly on the floor, with the exception of the corkscrew keychain sticking out of its holder. I sighed and moved over to push it all back in to my satchel, lying a few feet away with more things spread out in front of it. I briefly considered sorting through the mess, shook off that idea, then used one arm to sweep it all back in.

In the bathroom, while steaming water pelted against my back, I considered my options. I couldn't pretend I was in denial - I'd already accepted it. All freaking night my attention shifted from the cieling to the man next to me, and each time it did, I felt a pang in my chest, a heat in my cheeks that I didn't want to go away. At one point I considered just waking him up and blurting it out, just to get it over with.

Because I had to tell him.

Panic fluttered in my chest and I crouched in the shower, trying to block out the sounds around me. Would I do it that day? That week? Would I even really do it at all?

I could go on with him as if I hadn't realized I wanted to spend my days and nights surrounded by his scent, his arms, his voice. I could like him, never let him go, without ever having to disclose anything more than deep affection and admiration, and nothing would ever have to get weird between us, like it inevitably would.

Then I realized that the water was no longer hitting my back, and that the shower door had been slid open. Randy stood there unabashedly, naked from head to toe and a languorous smile on his lips. I could, dedspite having been just covered in hot water, feel the post-sleep heat radiating off his body, smell his sweat and the scent of the sheets. I pursed my lips as he lingered by the frame, trying to hold back anything that might want to push its ways out.

"Isn't the water burning you?" he asked, fiddling with the faucet setting.

"I'm in love with you."

I waited for something awful, like his fingers to slip on the faucet and scalding water to rain down, or for his expression to fall, or for him to say 'okay' and leave it at that.

Instead, his smile spread almost imperceptibly, and he turned the water on to a cooler flow. "that's good," he said simply, stepping into the shower and pulling me up by my elbows. He reached for the body wash, squirting some into his hand and spreading it up my side.

"Good?" I whispered, not sure what to expect.

"Yeah, good. It would be really awkward if you didn't feel the same as me, don't you think?" his hands slid up my arms, onto my shoulders and neck, his thumbs rubbing under my ears.

I bit back a sigh and tried to speak. "Are you saying that -"

"I've been in love with you for a while," he said, like it was no big deal. "I didn't try to deny it. That would've been stupid." His fingers rubbed into the muscles of my neck and shoulders, down my back and into the curve of my waist. "Your muscles are so tense."

I nodded slowly, trying to get a handle on the situation. My elbows bumped the wall as he came closer, lathering my hips and stomach with the soft scented wash, eyes roaming over me as if he had forever. His knee nudged mine apart, and as I put an arm against the door, a thought occurred to me. "I think this is a single person shower."