me be.
In a year this would all be behind me. I tried to focus on that.
I was starving now. Breakfast was hours in my past and I’d missed lunch. I glanced at my cell. It was almost five. Dinner time.
I quietly wandered downstairs. The house was silent. I wondered where exactly Nolan’s room was. I realized I hadn’t even seen half the house, and I had to admit I was a little bit curious. Besides, it was my home, technically. I could explore it if I wanted to. I assumed Nolan’s door was probably shut anyway. At least I could see what else was on his side of the place.
The kitchen was empty. No sign of Nolan. I glanced in the fridge and pulled out a Lean Cuisine meal, popped it in the microwave. It could cook while I explored.
First there was the study. It was a small library really, all the walls were lined with shelves of books upon books. But that was no big shock, my father was the most well-read person I knew. There was an enormous executive desk and a Mac computer on it, the rest of the desktop clean. I went to pull open the drawers but they were locked.
“Of course,” I said out loud. “Figures.”
The next room was the fitness room. Two elliptical machines faced a flat screen television. There was a rowing machine, a treadmill, and some free weights. Basic gym stuff. A sauna was off of the room, big enough to fit at least 10 people.
After the gym was a sitting room full of the kind of furniture no one is really ever supposed to sit on. And then after that, a long hallway.
In the distance, toward the end of it, I could hear what sounded like a shower running. I could only assume Nolan’s room was at the end of that hallway.
There were two guest rooms other than his. Both were furnished modestly, just a large bed and flat screen television in each. The beds looked like the kind in a model home, ones that had probably never been slept in.
Why had my father needed a place like this for just himself?
As I slowly walked down the hall and closer to Nolan’s room, I could hear a radio playing and the sound of the shower turning off.
His door was cracked just a little. I should have walked away then, especially when I heard the shower turning off. He’d be in the room any moment and what kind of person did I look like standing in the shadows behind his slightly opened bedroom door?
But I didn’t care. This was my house now anyway. I could look where I pleased. That’s how I justified it anyway. And really, he should have shut his door.
What are you thinking? I thought to myself. You look like a voyeur creeper right now.
Just as I was turning to walk away, I saw him walk into the bedroom from his bathroom.
I sucked in a breath. He was naked.
Now I really should have walked away, but I was frozen in place.
Nolan Weston had the most gorgeous body I had ever seen in person. Or had ever seen period. He had a white towel wrapped around his shoulders and wore nothing else, so I had a view of everything. His shoulders were broad, his upper arms and forearms knotted with large muscles. He had gorgeous skin, an olive complexion. He glowed as he stood in the middle of his room. His pectorals were well defined, and the memory of pressing my face against them still hung heavy in my short term memory. Nolan Weston looked like something out of Men’s Health magazine; he was the “after” photo to which all men aspired. My eyes raked down his chest to his abs, which looked like they were molded by a higher deity. And then…
Well. He was endowed. Which I suppose shouldn’t have shocked me. He did have a certain gait and confidence about him when he walked. Like something impressive was in his Tom Ford slacks. And now I could see, very plainly, that it was indeed impressive.
His thighs and calves were muscular like the rest of him. He was lean, but also imposing and large. He was a gorgeous creature.
I tried to shake myself out of my haze. I mean, it really was time to walk away now. I slowly turned from