Sweet Caroline

#2 Don't bother pretending

The bathroom is strangely empty, like it hasn't been used in a while. There are no toothbrushes, no wet towels on the floor, no shower gel, nothing that indicated that this bathroom is actually a place that anyone ever takes a shower in. There is a shower curtain, but that's all.

The man leaves for a second to get me a towel and some shower gel. He promises that he'll leave some dry clothes for me on the side table in the hallway and that he'll stay in the living room the whole time. The moment he leaves, I peel the wet dress off my body and throw my underwear on the floor as well. The hot water feels amazing on my freezing body. I stay under it a little longer than needed, taking a moment to feel like myself again. This day has not ended up the way I expected it to. It's only my second day here after the big move and I'm already messing things up for myself.

What am I doing in this apartment with a man who is a hell of a lot older than I was, about fifteen years I guess, and whose name I don't even know? Part of me knows that I should just go to a hotel, but I am too curious to see where this would go. I moved here to truly start living, so tonight might just be a chance to do so. I made a list of things I want to do during my first months here and meeting new people is one of them. Having a one-night stand is another. Why not get both of those things out of the way during the first week? Two birds, one stone, all that stuff.

When I'm finally warm, clean and dry again, I open the door to the hallway to see what he left me to put on. I pull the clothes into the bathroom with me so I won't have to change in the hallway. The clothes are... not much. A large man's shirt and boxer shorts. I don't know how I feel about that. Nothing inappropriate would be on show, but I would look awful. Maybe I should be glad that he doesn't have any woman's clothes in his apartment, since that might mean that he has a wife who is out of town or something, but maybe some yoga pants? Or an old dress from an ex-girlfriend? No such luck. Baggy shirt and boxers it is.

Or maybe just the shirt... I smile to myself and discard the boxers. The shirt is so big that it falls way past my thighs, so I won't give anything away when I walk in, but he'll surely notice soon enough. I wonder if I was reading the whole situation right. Surely I'm not wrong thinking that me staying here means that we'll be sleeping together? I feel nervous at the prospect but making the decision to wear nothing but a shirt makes the whole thing a little easier. I'm making a move without having to say or do anything. It makes me feel braver than I actually am.

I take a deep breath before walking through the hallway and into the living room. The moment I open the door, I'm too shocked to move another inch. The whole place looks like my grandmother's house. A large cuckoo clock, heavy dark wooden furniture, a color scheme that dates from way in the seventies or something... This doesn't not scream 'hot bachelor in his late thirties'.

"So..." He smirks at me from his seat on the couch and turns off the TV. "That took you long enough."

"How old are you?" I ask, looking around and frowning. "Eighty?"

He grins. "This is my parents' house. I have one week to clear it all out before the new renters move in."

"Oh. Did they..."

"Die?" he finishes for me. "Dad did. Mom moved in with my sister. She told me that the least I could do was take care of this place and I guess she's right." He looks me over and smiles. "Right now, I am very glad she insisted."

"I'm sorry about your dad," I say, unsure how to react. I suddenly feel very stupid standing here without underwear on.

"He had been sick for over a year. It's for the better." He gets up and stretches himself out. "It's my time for a shower now. I'm dying to get out of this suit." He brushes past me to get to the hallway and laughs when I tense up.

"Don't get shy now," he murmurs. "And don't think for a second that I didn't notice that you're only wearing a shirt. Don't you dare put anything else on."

"Okay," I gulp.

"And for the record..." He moves in closer behind me and presses his lips to my neck, making me shiver. "I'm still hungry."

Before I can react, he moves away from me and closes the door behind me. "My name is Nathan, by the way," he yells just loud enough for me to hear. "Not that you care."

"Caroline," I shout back, rolling my eyes. "Not that you asked."

He laughs and starts singing: "Sweet Caroline..."

"How fucking original!" I reply before making my way to the kitchen. I may as well see if I can scrounge us up something. I could eat a bite as well, although I am more nervous than hungry.

Nathan takes even longer than me to shower and change clothes. I have a feeling he's doing it on purpose so I'll have plenty of time to go through the fridge and unpack my own groceries. My mom and I love cooking and baking together, so this is familiar territory. I wonder what she would think if she was here instead of back at home with dad and she could see me whipping something up for a guy I have only just met and who has already managed to get me into his kitchen half-naked. She would flip.

"That smells great," Nathan sighs the moment he walks back in, wearing only sweatpants. Grey sweatpants. I don't know why every single man on the planet seems to own a pair and also somehow knows that there is nothing sexier than a man in nothing but a pair of those. It's ridiculous. There must be a book about this somewhere, or a blog, telling men exactly what to wear, say and do to get girls to fancy them. Not that I'm complaining – I get to ogle a rather muscular torso covered in tattoos.

Yum.

"Fifteen more minutes," I tell him, peeking into the oven before moving back to the stove to stir in the pan. "Pigs in a blanket in the oven, since I found some puff pastry in the freezer and I bought sausages today. I've got fried chicken, baked potatoes..." I trail off when Nathan moves into the kitchen and presses up behind me, distracting me.

"You're a gift from God himself," he murmurs before kissing my neck and running his hands up my thighs. He chuckles when I shift uncomfortably, unsure how to react. "Don't pretend like you haven't been waiting for this from the moment you agreed to come in here."