Chapter 6: Showers
The next day Matt had something of a hangover—he seemed less capable than I at “holding his booze.” I was sitting in the kitchen having a coffee when he shambled in. His hair was tousled and he was wearing only those gray sweat pants—which meant I was assaulted by the vision of his chest hair again.
“Morning,” he mumbled.
“Morning,” I said, taking advantage of his bleary-eyed state to stare unabashedly. “Coffee?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
I got him coffee, black with sugar as he liked it, and then, while standing over him, deliberately put my hand on his bare shoulder.
“You okay?”
He took a sip of coffee and seemed to consider. Finally, he shrugged, and said, “I guess.”
I kept my hand where it was. I even began to massage his shoulder.
“You feel tense,” I said, and, movin
