Free Rain by Christie Cote Page B

away.
    “Your shirt,” Kyle said, and I looked at him, confused, before looking down.
    Oh no. I’d managed to get throw up on my shirt. Gross. Embarrassment had found me again along with the desire to rip my shirt off.
    Kyle must have seen my panic, because when I looked up at him again, his jacket and shirt were off and he was handing me his shirt. The sight of him with no shirt on hit me. Holy hell, what was he doing? His chest did not have a single flaw on it, and muscles stood out that I never would have expected him to have. They were subtle, but well defined, opposite to Austin’s muscles, which were overbearing and stood out even underneath his clothing. I found myself gaping at him as he stood like that, just waiting for me to take his shirt.
    “Take it,” he said.
    I clamped my jaw shut and then reopened it. “Why?” I asked, extreme heat returning to my body. This time, it wasn’t because I was going to vomit.
    “You need to change your shirt, and I don’t know where your clothes are,” he said reasonably.
    “You need a shirt.” I still stared at him numbly.
    “I’ll be fine. I have my jacket.” He winked and then left the bathroom, shutting the door behind him without another word.
    I peered at the door, still trying to process what had just happened. I blinked a few times to clear my head, which didn’t actually help that much, and then I finally pulled my soiled shirt off over my head and tossed it to the side. Quickly scanning myself to make sure I didn’t have anything else on me, I slipped his warm t-shit on. It was soft, and I could smell his cologne on it. I stuck my nose closer to it and took in a deep breath through my nose, inhaling the scent. It smelled like the rain, and I liked it.
    Slowly getting to my feet, I looked at myself in the mirror. I didn’t look as bad as I’d expected. Kyle had done a pretty good job putting my hair up, so I left it how it was. I saw mouthwash on the counter and wanted to dance at the sight of it. I grabbed it and twisted the top off before pouring some of the liquid in my mouth, swooshing it around, and gargling it. Once I’d spit it out, I repeated, really wanting to clean out my mouth and get rid of the nasty taste. That taste alone was enough to make me sick again.
    Once I was satisfied and felt like I could face Kyle again, I opened the door and went back into the room. Kyle was standing near the door. He had his jacket on again, but it was unzipped, showing his naked stomach. I forced myself to look away.
    “Thank you,” I told him again. “I can probably find one of my shirts and change now,” I said, even though that didn’t sound very appealing at this moment. The fact that I probably shouldn’t be wearing another guy’s shirt escaped me also.
    He looked me over and smiled. “Don’t worry about it. Just relax.”
    “If you say so,” I responded, trying to keep the relief out of my voice as I made my way back onto the bed.
    Kyle followed me before he scooped up my iPod and started going through it. I watched him as his expressions changed depending on what he found.
    “Okay,” he said, stopping abruptly. “This is why you got sick. This music sucks.” He looked at me in horror. “Really? Kelly Clarkson and Simple Plan? I can’t even continue. If I find Britney Spears on here, you may need to find a new stranger.”
    “Hey! I like my music,” I defended, trying to remember if I had any of her songs on there, hoping I didn’t.
    “That isn’t music,” he retorted, putting my iPod in his pocket.
    “What are you doing?” My voice rose.
    “Saving you,” he said seriously, pulling out another iPod from his other pocket and handing it to me.
    “We are trading. Take my iPod, and I will trade back with you tomorrow.” He gave no room for argument.
    “Uh…okay…I guess. But if you delete all of my music, I will hurt you.”
    He just arched his eyebrow at me, silently saying, No you wouldn’t, and he was probably right,