Flustered

CHAPTER 16

Something had shifted. 

There simply was no other way to describe it.

Last night left me feeling exposed, raw, vulnerable. I hated it. But, I knew I could never take that back—a part of me didn't want to. 

Waking up alone in a bed that wasn't mine cemented that fact. I felt a sense of loss at not having Easton with me and immediately berated myself for it. I couldn't let myself grow attached. I experienced enough pain for one lifetime and I could only take so much. 

The sound of a door being pushed open alerted me to Easton’s presence, now leaning against the doorframe as he stared at me. His hair was a bit messy, strands falling loosely over his eyes, and he had on shorts with no shirt. I didn’t let my eyes linger. 

“Hey.” His voice was hoarse as it broke the silence of the room, which I finally took notice of. His bedroom was spacious, but not overwhelmingly large. Grey walls and two large windows to the right, allowing soft light to bathe us both in. 

His bed was comfortable and it only hit me then that I had no idea how I got there. His blue comforter was wrapped around me, almost like someone tucked me in. 

“Hi.” I spoke hesitantly, unsure of what to make of the situation. My heart felt content, but my mind was at war with it. 

It was at that moment that my memories decided to resurface. 

“Good boy.”

Face a bright red, I couldn’t believe how I responded to Easton the night before. No one had ever made me feel that way. 

“Did you sleep well?” He asked, stepping through the threshold and standing at the foot of the bed, looking down at me with those brown eyes, much darker than I remembered them being. 

“Um. . .y—yes.” I cursed myself inwardly for getting so flustered, but the words just kept echoing in my head. 

Good boy.

Good boy. 

Good boy. 

Easton, the bastard, had the audacity to look amused. His little smirk did nothing to ease my embarrassment. 

This kind of dynamic was so new to me, I had no idea how to act. My face was all hot and I was positive my ears were pink. It was getting harder to keep my gaze from straying.

Easton was all hard edges and sharp lines, yet he still looked so soft like that. Sleep tussled hair, soft looking sweat shorts, his bare arms crossed over his chest. It was a miracle I was able to resist staring for as long as I had. 

His smirk only grew as his weight shifted, the floor boards creaking underneath him. "I've got some clean clothes for you in the bathroom. Figured a hot shower would be nice. The clothes will be big, but it's all I got for now."

I nodded sheepishly, too embarrassed to argue with him.

"Come find me when you're done." He finished, and it sounded like a challenge. I ignored my own thoughts and hummed an affirmative.

Luckily, finding the bathroom wasn't hard. It was down the hall from the bedroom to the right, and when I locked the door behind me my shoulders finally released the tension I hadn't noticed had built up until then.

This was all so strange and every second I was awake, I practically had to fight tooth and nail to not run out the front door and pretend none of this ever happened. I probably would have, too, if it weren't for the fact my home no longer felt safe. 

The instant dread that filled me at the memory immediately had me changing the direction my thoughts were headed. Instead, I took in the tiled flooring of the bathroom and the light blue shade of the walls. 

It was cozy, and butterflies swarmed my stomach at the neatly folded clothes sitting on the sink. 

I didn't bother even glancing toward the mirror and just went straight for the shower, turning the water all the way to hot and reveling in the steam as it filled the small bathroom. Easton was right, a hot shower was exactly what I needed to wash away yesterday.

As soon as I got in and the water cascaded over my shoulders, my muscles relaxed. It felt good, like I could finally catch my breath.

I read somewhere once that people who showered in really hot water were lonely and the heat imitated the feeling of another person. I never gave it much thought, but it did always cross my mind when a shower turned my skin red. 

Soon, the smell of Easton's body wash and shampoo filled the shower and embarrassingly left me even more relaxed. Something about smelling like him eased a coldness in me I hadn't noticed was there before. 

When I finally got out, steam fogged up the mirror. I pulled on the grey sweatpants that were slightly too long—fortunately they had a draw string I could tie—and the too large t-shirt that I had to roll up the sleeves of. They smelled like Easton and I tried not to think about that. 

After a few minutes of just talking myself into it, I finally emerged from the bathroom and found Easton by following the sounds of pots and pans clanging about. When I entered the kitchen, Easton's back was to me as he fiddled with the stove and started stirring whatever was in the frying pan. I could smell bacon, as well. My stomach growled and I flushed at Easton's chuckle of amusement.

When he looked over his shoulder at me, the smirk fell from his face and his cheeks grew pink. I couldn't figure out why until he looked me over, taking in my appearance in his clothes.

I couldn't bask in being the one to make him flustered this time—instead of the other way around—because of the microwave deciding to loudly announce that the bacon was done. He didn't say anything, just cleared his throat and then started pulling the plate of bacon out and setting it on the middle island. 

"Take a seat, I'm making breakfast." He whispered, sounding almost shy. 

Me, being the emotionally stunted person that I was, just sat down quietly at the island and made no move to start up another conversation. We remained in silence until the food was done and Easton set a plate of sausage and cheese on a bagel, a slice of toast, and two pieces of bacon in front of me. 

"You didn't have to do all this." I finally said, mouth watering at the food. I was hungrier than I thought, though that's not surprising considering I hadn't eaten anything since yesterday before noon.

"I know you've got to be hungry. I hope it's good." He replied. I could see him looking at me from under my eyelashes, but I wouldn't meet his gaze.

Everything happened so fast yesterday, it was all normal and routine until I came home to a place that now would never feel safe to me again. I had no idea what came next and if the hunters really were after me or not. The thought took my breath away, so I started eating and avoided Easton's eyes like the plague. 

The food was good. I was grateful, I really was, but I had no idea how to show it. No one had ever done anything like this for me before.

I was so used to taking care of myself, I genuinely didn't remember how to let someone else do it for me. I didn't think I wanted to, either.

That's how people got let down, after all.