COMPLETE ✓| Charlotte Hastings found herself between a rock and a hard place when she aged out of the foster system. With only a car to her name, she set out on the open road, hoping to find long lost relatives. Winter hits her hard. When she meets...
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CHAPTER 3 | OUT WITH THE OLD
Elijah Blackwood
When I peeled my eyes open in the morning, it took me a few seconds to remember why I was lying on my couch instead of in my bed. Lottie. I don't know what came over me to ask her to stay but I was glad I had; it was cold inside my apartment, so I didn't want to imagine how cold it was outside. I heard movement in the kitchen and wondered if Mr. Wilson had come down to try to fix the leaky tap again. I kept telling him we should just hire someone to do it but he kept trying to fix it himself.
"Hi. Sorry I woke you." It was Lottie. I sat up on the couch to look over at her standing in the kitchen.
"Good morning. You didn't wake me. Did you sleep all right?"
"Yeah, your bed was surprisingly comfortable," it was possible she was blushing a little. I wondered why, but didn't think we knew each other well enough that I could ask her.
"Good. I'm glad." I smiled as she ducked her head down to pick something up off the floor. "Do you need some help?"
"Oh, uh, no! I'm fine, I just. . ." she sighed, "I do need help. I was trying to do the dishes, but I can't find your soap."
"You don't have to do that," I stood up to go help her, the blanket falling to my feet as I did so, "you're the guest."
I rounded the edge of the counter into the kitchen and Lottie looked up at me. Her hair was covering part of her face, having fallen there as she searched the lower cabinets hoping to find the dish soap. She could have brushed it out of her eyes, but instead chose to hide behind it as she blushed.
"Uh, Eli?"
"Yeah?" I reached up to the top shelf and brought down the dish soap.
"You aren't wearing a shirt."
"Yeah, so?"
"You are not exactly wearing pants."
Instinctively, I covered myself with my hands. I looked down to see what she meant and let out a small laugh. It's just underwear! It's not like she saw anything.
"Sorry, I'll go put something more on," I was already halfway to my room because of the initial fear response.
I was surprised I even heard her from that distance as she muttered to herself, "I can't believe I just did that. . . so embarrassing . . . see my stuff."
I went into my dresser and found the only pair of pyjama pants I owned. I never slept in pyjamas unless I visited my parents, so they still looked like they were brand new, even after nearly three years of use. I should have worn them last night, but by the time I realized what was going on, Lottie was already in bed.
