Chapter 14 #2
He walks over to the bathroom, and mere minutes after the water starts running, Logan comes in through the door.
Like God himself made it his mission to keep me on edge tonight.
Max’s shirt disappears under the covers, keeping the chips company, while Logan’s expression sours with every piece of Max’s clothing he has to kick out of the way.
“What got you so horny?”
“Huh?”
“Turned on. Wet, down there,” he says, a grin spreading on his face. “Got a fine nose,” he adds, and I really hope he’s just messing with me.
“Ahm... I’m not—“
“Sure, sweetheart.” He snorts, picking up Max’s pants to throw them on the couch. “It’s a surprise I can smell anything over Vaughn’s reeking stuff.” He yells the last part, and Max’s reaction follows immediately.
“I don’t reek,” Max yells back from the shower.
“Wasn’t meant as a complaint, sunshine,” Logan replies, and then, the next man starts to get naked in front of me.
As more and more clothes land on a pile on the floor, I realize that Logan’s arms aren’t the only body part of him that’s tattooed.
“Shower’s roomy, you know,” he says while I can’t keep myself from ogling him. By the time my eyes trail down his stomach, the question if his boxers hide more tattoos must be plastered on my face.
“Lily.” He clicks his tongue. “Shower?”
“Max’s already in the bathroom,” I reply mindlessly, and Logan shrugs, turning his back toward me. He steps out of his boxers, answering fifty percent of my earlier question.
“I know, sweetheart.”
I am living someone’s dream, and maybe that someone is called Lily.
Logan vanishes to the bathroom, and then someone screeches. Loud laughter follows, together with some curse words about ‘fucking hot water’.
I pull the bag of chips out from under my blanket, and right when the current episode of my show turns a little eerie, a knock on the door makes me toss the chips to the side.
No way I’m going to deal with a third naked man.
“Open the door, I know you fuckers are here.”
Hastily, I get up from the bed, almost tripping when the blanket wraps around my foot as I try to walk away.
To my fortune, Sam is standing in front of the door, fully dressed.
“Oh, hi. Didn’t mean you when I said fuckers,” he says, scratching his head. “Aren’t you supposed to sleep in Vaughn’s room? Actually, I don’t wanna know. Just tell the dimwits we’re having a movie night.”
“Sam? Is that you?” Max yells out of the bathroom.
“Movie night,” Sam screams back, right over my head.
There’s a commotion in the bathroom, and shortly after, a dripping wet Max comes running out, a towel wrapped dangerously low on his waist. He digs through a drawer of Logan’s dresser, which earns him a hard slap on the back of his head when Logan catches him stealing what I assume is a pair of his underwear.
“I got a movie from a friend,” Logan says, searching his desk for something. “The damn USB stick must be right here—“
“No,” Max and Sam say sternly.
“Save the suggestion, Sam, I’m not watching James Bond,” Logan says with a sigh when Sam opens his mouth.
Max puts on a pair of sweatpants, throwing his towel on the growing stash of stuff in the corner of the room.
“I want you guys to know that I have the knowledge and the necessary tools to blow this building up, just in case Rockwell picks out a movie. Because I’m not gonna watch another three-hour documentary about lavender farmers from the Provence.”
“While the culprit is sleeping soundly in his goddamn recliner,” Sam adds, shaking his head.
I had this na?ve idea that staying quiet would make me invisible. It doesn’t. Max grabs my hand and pulls me out of the room after Logan and Sam, who clears his throat as we walk to the rec room.
“She should pick something,” he says, flashing me a small smile. “Since you’re our guest. And because I don’t have the nerve to start the night with a screaming match.”
Feverishly, I try to come up with a suggestion that’ll please everyone.
“The X-files?” I say, adding, “The one from 1998.”
Contemplating grumbles come from Logan and Sam.
My dad used to watch the show with me whenever we had the house for ourselves.
I wasn’t allowed to watch spooky stuff—or have sugar—so being on the brink of a sugar high, hiding underneath the blanket whenever an episode got too scary, was always the highlight of my month.
“Great, another alien nutcase,” Logan mumbles under his breath, albeit with a grin tugging on his lips.
“I didn’t say I believe in aliens,” I retort quietly. By now, I regret my suggestion.
“But you do.”
“Yeah,” I admit, and Max squeezes my hand.
“I love—“ he blurts out before stopping mid-breath. “The X-files. My sisters forced me to watch it, thinking it would be fun to scare me. Jokes on them, I only got the hots for Mulder. And Scully, obviously, I mean, look at her.”
“Another lovely tidbit of information about you I could have lived without.” Sam groans, and I let out a shaky breath.
We step into the rec room, which now looks more like a home cinema. Someone, probably Charlie, had moved the dinner table to the back of the room. The two small couches were pulled toward the middle of the room, a recliner standing in between them, facing a white wall.
The room is dark, apart from the little light coming from the kitchen where Charlie stands in front of the running microwave.
The sound of popping popcorn is drowned out by the chattering men, and just when I want to ask why everyone is fighting over movie choices when there’s not even a TV in the room, the microwave stops, and I hear the faint humming of a projector.
I tilt my head back to look at the ceiling, and Max leans closer.
“TVs break too easily when someone starts throwing shit.”
“It happened one time, Max, and just because you wouldn’t stop cheating at fucking Uno,” Sam says, glaring at Max.
“I did not cheat, just read the damn rules. Go ask Ruby; she’ll tell you the exact same thing,” Max snaps back, and Sam takes a deep breath.
“That’s cause you both cheat.”
“I thought you don’t have the nerve for a screaming match,” Logan says, stepping in between the two men.
Sam gives him the finger and retreats back to one of the couches where Charlie just sat down with his bowl of popcorn. Sam steals himself a handful, and Charlie’s attempt to shield his snacks with his body only elicits an amused huff from Sam.
“Go check if Hunter got all my stuff,” Logan tells Max while he pulls me over to the free couch. “And sunshine, you know how I like my melon. Cubes, not slices, got it?”
“Yep,” Max says, slightly annoyed when he leaves me with Logan and the others.