Grace Lost (14 page)
I swallowed hard. His blue
eyes danced in the candlelight and his face was holding onto a trace of sadness
and a lot of fatigue. I looked up at him, but didn’t answer. His
five o’clock shadow was longer than usual and made his features look only more
rugged and masculine in the glow. He took the shirt from me, my fingers letting
go without much resistance. I stood there feeling overwhelmingly
vulnerable as he looked down at my body, then back to my face. “You’re so
beautiful, Zoe.”
He stepped forward and I took a
step back, still shaking. Wanting to feel his body next to mine, but
terrified of the same, I whispered back to him. “No, Boggs.” I saw
the pain of rejection on his face. I held a hand up, and put my palm against
his chest. “Not yet…I just need some time.” He sighed and looked at
his feet, but didn’t back away. “Besides, you stink, remember?” I was
still whispering and now my stomach was in a knot. His silence was the
loudest thing in the room. My hand still touching him, feeling his
heartbeat, I rested my forehead on his chest. He reached behind me, and I felt
the flannel shirt drape over my shoulders. My face still against him, I
mumbled. “I’m sorry Boggs.”
I knew he was miserable. “It’s ok,
Zoe. A cold shower will do me good.” He sighed and left the room
sulking.
I buttoned the oversized
shirt, and rolled the sleeves up. I heard the shower running again, so
walked downstairs. I found Emilie sitting on one of the two loveseats in
the living room. There was a fire going, and she had four mugs of hot
cocoa on the coffee table.
“Zoe!” She seemed excited to
see me. “Come grab some cocoa! It’s hot. Gus said to not use
any electric except the stove & oven to make the solar batteries last
longer, but the candles and fire work fine.
Kind of
cozy, huh?”
I sat kiddy corner to her on the
other loveseat, and pulled an afghan from the back of the couch over my legs
since all I had on was the shirt. Though not large on top, I had always
been self conscious when not wearing a bra, so was glad for the baggy
shirt. “It’s making me sleepy. I know it’s still afternoon but it’s
so dark in here.”
“Gus said you were really
sick too, just before I joined you all. That can’t help.”
“She was, very sick,” Gus said as
he reached the bottom of the stairs. His face was clean shaven and he
looked like a different person. I giggled because he was wearing a
women’s light blue t-shirt that fell short on him and was too tight. It
had daffodils decorating the front. He wore a pair of gray boxer briefs
that did nothing to hide his manhood. Emilie choked on her cocoa.
He came over toward us, turned a circle, and said “
what
?”
“Sexy” snorted Emilie. Gus
grinned and plopped on the couch next to her, the t-shirt riding up and
exposing flesh. I could tell he worked out regularly. It was hard
to look away, but I didn’t want to be caught staring.
“You like it huh?” Gus asked,
waggling his eyebrows at her. She blushed deeply.
I recalled her question about his
age and decided to find out for her. “Cool it you two. Gus you’re an old
man and Emilie you’re practically a kid.” They both looked at me, in
slight disbelief that I’d called out their flirting.
“I’ll have you know I’m only
sixty-three,” said Gus, laughing. “Old man my butt.” Emilie smacked his
arm.
“How old are you really Gus?”
asked Emilie. He leaned over to her and whispered in her ear, making her
laugh harder. “See, Zoe, he’s not too old.” I rolled my eyes and
sipped my cocoa. I spit it back into the mug, not expecting what I
tasted.
“You
lushes
!”
I said.
They both laughed and high fived each other.
The cocoa was laced with something much stronger than marshmallows. Boggs
came down the stairs next, his lower half wrapped in a red terry cloth
towel. His chest was still wet and the drops of water caught in the
firelight. Something stirred inside me and I sipped at the
alco
-cocoa.
Boggs’ chest was a great distraction from Gus’ abs. I hadn’t realized
that Boggs had a tattoo of an intricate cross on his right pectoral.
