would be Gabe.
I gave him the cliffs notes version of Gabe’s reaction, and
was taken aback by the fact Wade was genuinely concerned. I’d
expected some sort of cocky retort such as, “You have me now,
baby. Who needs him?”
I’m not sure why it was I didn’t think Wade would understand
or give a shit about my friendship with Gabe, but it brought out
this whole other side I hadn’t witnessed during the week we spent
together. We’d had some serious conversations, or he tried to
while I deflected with sarcasm and my boy bits. So I knew there
was actual substance underneath the ripped, muscley exterior. It
was sweet that he cared and it made me miss him that much
more, which in turn only wound up depressing me further.
I tossed the last pair of jeans in the washer and shut the lid. I
reached up to pull the chain that turned off the light in the closet,
and caught a good whiff of yesterday’s T-shirt that I’d thrown
on earlier when I ran out to grab some coffee. My lip curled as I
yanked it off and added it to the wash. Heading back down the
hall toward the kitchen, my first double caramel macchiato had
kicked in and I could feel the haze lifting. That was something
to be thankful for, I thought as I snatched the second of my
Starbucks to-go cups off the countertop, sitting next to my keys
and wallet.
I stepped down into the den, feeling a chill travel over my
46 Ethan Day
bare skin. I considered putting on a shirt and reached under the
waistband of my jeans to satisfy the itch niggling at my hip. It
was nearly ten-thirty in the morning and I was already dreading
work the next day.
“How the hell am I supposed to go back to the ho-hum of
everyday life after a week with Wade Walker?” I placed my iPod
into the docking station and scrolled down the playlist until
coming across the remix for J-Lo’s Louboutins .
I turned the volume up as loud as it would go, and stepped
back into the center of the room while taking another long sip
of my caramely-espresso goodness. The R&B riff slowly built
into the thumping club back beat. As Jenny from the block sang
about taking back her love, the rhythm of the music started to
lift my spirits.
My hips began to sway, my foot tapped from side to side,
and by the time she was ready to throw on her Louboutins , I was
full on dancing around the den. I closed my eyes and allowed
the pounding beat to pulse through my body. I bounced around,
gyrating my hips as my shoulders swayed back forth. There was
something about the way my body moved when I was dancing,
the muscles tensing—the thin layer of sweat that was already
beginning to form over me, warming my body from the inside
out. It always managed to make me feel better. I wasn’t positive,
but I was fairly certain that dancing was nature’s Prozac.
“Christ, now I sound like Wade.” I laughed as I continued
to work my way around the room. “You ain’t gettin’ me Mr.
Granola!”
“I bet I could, though!”
My eyes popped open and I yelped, startled into a frozen
mass of shock. The sippy-lid popped off my Starbucks cup,
flying straight up into the air as I’d inadvertently squeezed too
hard. Warm liquid splashed onto my hand and ran over my
fingers, dripping down onto the tile. I could feel it splashing onto
my bare feet and saw the plastic lid out of the corner of my eye
on its descent toward the floor. I stared at Wade standing in my
kitchen, looking me over as if he’d just finished tasting every last
Life in fusion 47
inch of my body and was now demanding seconds. It amazed me
that one man could instill such an incredible sense of safety yet
somehow manage to seem kind of dangerous at the same time.
“Baby, I do love the way you move!” Wade yelled over the
music, proving to me that I wasn’t hallucinating after all.
I felt my face flush as I smiled, my knees going slightly weak
at the sight of him. I opened my mouth to speak, then high tailed
it over
I gave him the cliffs notes version of Gabe’s reaction, and
was taken aback by the fact Wade was genuinely concerned. I’d
expected some sort of cocky retort such as, “You have me now,
baby. Who needs him?”
I’m not sure why it was I didn’t think Wade would understand
or give a shit about my friendship with Gabe, but it brought out
this whole other side I hadn’t witnessed during the week we spent
together. We’d had some serious conversations, or he tried to
while I deflected with sarcasm and my boy bits. So I knew there
was actual substance underneath the ripped, muscley exterior. It
was sweet that he cared and it made me miss him that much
more, which in turn only wound up depressing me further.
I tossed the last pair of jeans in the washer and shut the lid. I
reached up to pull the chain that turned off the light in the closet,
and caught a good whiff of yesterday’s T-shirt that I’d thrown
on earlier when I ran out to grab some coffee. My lip curled as I
yanked it off and added it to the wash. Heading back down the
hall toward the kitchen, my first double caramel macchiato had
kicked in and I could feel the haze lifting. That was something
to be thankful for, I thought as I snatched the second of my
Starbucks to-go cups off the countertop, sitting next to my keys
and wallet.
I stepped down into the den, feeling a chill travel over my
46 Ethan Day
bare skin. I considered putting on a shirt and reached under the
waistband of my jeans to satisfy the itch niggling at my hip. It
was nearly ten-thirty in the morning and I was already dreading
work the next day.
“How the hell am I supposed to go back to the ho-hum of
everyday life after a week with Wade Walker?” I placed my iPod
into the docking station and scrolled down the playlist until
coming across the remix for J-Lo’s Louboutins .
I turned the volume up as loud as it would go, and stepped
back into the center of the room while taking another long sip
of my caramely-espresso goodness. The R&B riff slowly built
into the thumping club back beat. As Jenny from the block sang
about taking back her love, the rhythm of the music started to
lift my spirits.
My hips began to sway, my foot tapped from side to side,
and by the time she was ready to throw on her Louboutins , I was
full on dancing around the den. I closed my eyes and allowed
the pounding beat to pulse through my body. I bounced around,
gyrating my hips as my shoulders swayed back forth. There was
something about the way my body moved when I was dancing,
the muscles tensing—the thin layer of sweat that was already
beginning to form over me, warming my body from the inside
out. It always managed to make me feel better. I wasn’t positive,
but I was fairly certain that dancing was nature’s Prozac.
“Christ, now I sound like Wade.” I laughed as I continued
to work my way around the room. “You ain’t gettin’ me Mr.
Granola!”
“I bet I could, though!”
My eyes popped open and I yelped, startled into a frozen
mass of shock. The sippy-lid popped off my Starbucks cup,
flying straight up into the air as I’d inadvertently squeezed too
hard. Warm liquid splashed onto my hand and ran over my
fingers, dripping down onto the tile. I could feel it splashing onto
my bare feet and saw the plastic lid out of the corner of my eye
on its descent toward the floor. I stared at Wade standing in my
kitchen, looking me over as if he’d just finished tasting every last
Life in fusion 47
inch of my body and was now demanding seconds. It amazed me
that one man could instill such an incredible sense of safety yet
somehow manage to seem kind of dangerous at the same time.
“Baby, I do love the way you move!” Wade yelled over the
music, proving to me that I wasn’t hallucinating after all.
I felt my face flush as I smiled, my knees going slightly weak
at the sight of him. I opened my mouth to speak, then high tailed
it over
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