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Summary
“Sorry.”
You tilt your head. “For what?”
He follows behind you, shutting the door with a soft click. You turn to face him, the small hallway pressing the two of you closer together.
“For not gettin’ there faster,” he grunts, not meeting your eyes. “For you havin’ to get up to take care of her.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. You know, it’s okay to let someone else take care of things once in a while,” you reply.
He regards you with that intense stare of his, the one that makes you want to confess that sometimes, when you lie awake at night unable to sleep, your hand slips beneath the waist of your shorts to thoughts of him. You press your lips together.
“Maybe…maybe you need to have someone take care of you,” you say.