Fell In Love With My Roomy Chapter 28

"Isn't that much easier now?" I attempt to hide and escape from his playful torment. He's doubled over at the waist, continuing to tickle relentlessly, so I seize the right moment to nudge his leg with my foot, throwing him off balance. The bathroom isn't very spacious; it only accommodates a toilet, a small sink, a washer and dryer, and nothing else. Kent, who stands taller than six feet, still has his wet clothes in a basket within the room.

He crashes down beside me, occupying the remaining floor space. My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath, and he chuckles in a brief, wheezing manner.

"Julia, that was a cheap shot," he chides, while I laugh.

"Don't you dare tickle me!" I tap his shoulder and retort, "Asshole."

"You must have enjoyed it, right?" he retorts, prompting me to turn my head to look at him. His gaze meets mine, causing my throat to constrict, and I take a deep breath.

"Um, Julianna?" My heart leaps when I hear Chase's voice from the dining room. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah!" I call back to reassure him. Kent hauls himself up from the floor. "Didn't hurt you, did I?" I inquire, and he laughs, offering to help me up. It strikes me as peculiar that he would do something so kind.

"Oh, honey, just my pride," he replies playfully. As he assists me to my feet, a jolt of electricity courses through my chest. Our hands briefly connect, and I find myself pondering why he keeps using that term. What does it signify? It didn't seem like something people commonly said.

For some reason, he doesn't release my hand, and nothing in my mind compels me to let go either. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears as his eyes grow darker.

"I should—"

"Yeah," he interrupts, his voice cracking slightly. We hastily withdraw our hands from each other. I pull mine back and wipe it on my pants. "Oh, well, I guess I'll need to wash this load again," he mutters while gazing at his laundry basket. I nod in response.

"I'll come get my laundry when it's finished."

"Cool," he replies, scratching the back of his neck and clearing his throat.

"Please, just let it dry. I know it was rude of you to ruin your laundry, but please don't do anything to mine," I implore, and he simply nods, quietly opening the washer.

As he places his clothes into the machine, he murmurs softly, "I won't touch it."

I clear my throat and exit the bathroom, feeling somewhat perplexed. There doesn't appear to be any explanation for how bizarre it became.

I shake it off and return to the table, taking my seat and feeling my cheeks flush.

"Is everything alright?" Chase inquires, sounding overly concerned, so I nod in response.

"Yeah, everything's fine," I assure him without giving it much thought. "We just had a spat over the laundry, but it's sorted now."

"That sounds odd; are you sure everything is okay?"

"Yes, it occurred while you were here. I apologize," I say with a shrug and reopen my essay. "How's your paper coming along?" I ask, attempting to push the bizarre bathroom incident out of my mind. Putting Kent and me in the smallest room in the apartment had never felt comfortable, and the closeness was too strange.

"I'm not working on an essay," he chuckles as I close my eyes.

"Alright, I'm sorry," I mumble, shaking my head. "Thoughts on paper."

"I get it," he smiles and turns his laptop around to show me the reading he's annotating.

After a few hours, Chase had completed his class reading, and I had wrapped up my essay. We worked well together, even though we didn't have much in common or a lot to chat about outside of school. Nevertheless, he was a pleasant, friendly presence and a decent friend.

"Are you planning to come on Tuesday?" He inquires as he gathers his belongings and dons his coat.

"I believe so," I reply, powering down my computer and removing my blue-light glasses. "What's next?"

"Sounds good," he says with a smile, picking up his bag. "Would you like to grab a cup of coffee before we start?" His question leaves me slightly puzzled. Was he attempting to arrange a date of some sort? "You know, just before the study group? We can meet up about five minutes before."

"Sure," I respond with a slight shrug, making an effort to dismiss the nagging voice in my head. I knew I could handle it because he was a friend. "Message me."

"Cool, Julianna," he says, opening my door and waving as he exits. I return his smile and wave back.

Gathering my belongings, I head back to my room, leaving the essay pile on my desk and heading to my basket of clean clothes. I had taken them out of the dryer when it finished, but I had simply tossed them in here until I could fold them properly.

I put on some soft music and begin the task of folding the clothes, creating neat stacks as I go. I felt a sense of accomplishment after completing that essay, and I wanted to savor the feeling for as long as possible.

Just as I finish putting on my socks, the doorbell rings, and when I turn around, Kent stands in the doorway.

I offer a soft "Hello" and let my hands rest at my sides.

I hope this doesn't make him too angry with me. I don't want the laundry mishap to escalate into a full-blown feud of pranks. He appears somewhat flushed and maybe a bit embarrassed, causing my eyebrows to raise.

"How are you feeling?"

"Oh, you left these in the dryer," he mutters softly as he enters my room, displaying one of my lace thongs hanging from his fingers. "Your clothes got mixed up with mine," he mumbles, and my cheeks grow warm.

These weren't the everyday type of underwear. My mom used to tease me when I bought such fancy and delicate lingerie—items that couldn't be washed with regular clothes or put in the dryer. But who has the time for that?

I take the black lace underwear from his hand and clear my throat. "Th-thanks," I mutter as we both turn away. "I can't always reach the back of the dryer; it's so high."

"I noticed," he replies with a shrug, and I nod, gazing down at my feet.

"Not all of my underwear looks like that."

"Stop," he says, raising his hands, and I immediately halt. I shouldn't have said that in the first place, and thankfully, he seems more level-headed. "It doesn't really matter. Just return whatever you took."

"I appreciate it," I mumble and clear my throat before placing them on my bed. I had never bothered to fold them because they were too delicate.

"Are you joining us tonight?" He clears his throat as he inquires, and I give a nod.

"That was my intention," I reply with a shrug. It's rather baffling that he just handed me my underwear. Julianna, what were you thinking? I should have paid more attention to the dryer, shouldn't I?

"I suppose that means we'll have to rendezvous."

"I guess so," I nod, feeling my cheeks growing increasingly warm. Why do I always feel so embarrassed?

He exits my room and returns to his, offering me a half-smile and a nod as he does. He closes his door, and I let out a groan, flopping face-down beside my laundry. That was beyond awkward. There's nothing worse than having something personal held by someone you don't particularly like.

I hope tonight doesn't turn out to be too uncomfortable, because all this laundry drama has already put a damper on my day.

I reflect on how he helped me get up from the bathroom floor and how his hand felt in mine. His hand was so much larger. What the heck was going on?

Nothing. I should try to put all of this out of my mind and just brush it off. I already have too much on my plate to let Kent occupy my thoughts.