Free Break My Fall (No Limits) by J.T. Cameron Page B

wasn’t on there, or he had set his profile to private.
    The wash cycle finished and as I was transferring clothes to the dryer, Drew walked in, carrying a basket of clothes. He wore his usual cargo shorts, and the hat—on backwards this time—sunglasses, and a blue t-shirt with the University of Virginia logo on it. The shirt looked like it had been through a lot, faded in places and a small but visible hole on the left side under the sleeve. A simple, if sloppy, getup…and he still looked hot.
    He did a double-take when he saw me. “Fancy meeting you here.” Drew poured some detergent in the washer, put the quarters in, started it, and began unloading his basket. “How was your weekend?”
    “It was okay, I guess. I hung out with Rebecca and her boyfriend. Saw a good band at The Windjammer. Did a little surfing, as always. How was yours?”
    “Not bad.”
    That’s all he said. I had offered more in my answer, but his was short. Part of me wanted to know what he had been up to. Not because it was any of my business—it wasn’t—and not because I wanted to be nosey. Okay, maybe a little nosey.
    I started the dryer, then sat back down. His silence made me feel awkward, so I decided to make him talk. “Why don’t you do your laundry at your grandparents’ house?”
    “I’m here to help them, not be a burden.”
    “I know what you mean. Your grandmother offered to let me do it there, but I just couldn’t.”
    More silence. The Drew I had sort of begun to know was much more chatty than this.
    “What are you up to today?” I prodded.
    He shrugged. “No plans yet. What about you?” He didn’t look at me at all, he just kept putting his clothes in the washer.
    “I have to work at noon.”
    “It’s too nice out to be working.”
    I picked up my phone, unlocked the screen, and realized the browser was still open to Facebook with his name typed into the search field. I quickly closed it, even though there was no way he could have seen it from that far away. “Well, some people have to work.”
    I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye to see his reaction. No facial expression. No words.
    I didn’t understand why he was being so short with me, but I was de termined not to let it show. I decided to be quiet and see what happened.
    When he finished loading the washer, he came and sat in one of the chairs directly across from me. I had b een looking at my phone and watching his movement peripherally. After a few seconds, I looked up and saw that his eyes were closed and he was rolling his head around to stretch his neck.
    This was a version of Drew I hadn’t seen before—a Drew who wasn’t chattering at me about something, wasn’t trying to be funny, wasn’t asking me questions, none of the usual stuff I’d become accustomed to from him.
    “What’s up with you?” I didn’t plan to say that. It just blurted out of me.
    He leveled his head, opened his eyes and said, “What?”
    “Are you okay? You don’t seem like your usual self.”
    He yawned. “I’m just tired. That’s all. I didn’t get much sleep over the weekend. Hey, you want to see a movie one night this week? Have you seen the trailer for—”
    “No,” I said, cutting him off. “Movies aren’t a good way to get to know someone.”
    That comment seemed to wake him up a little, and I saw the brightness in his eyes that was usually there coming back. “That’s true. So you want to get to know me?”
    “You know more about me than I do about you.”
    He lifted his arms—the hole in his shirt becoming more visible—took off his hat, pushed his hair back, then put the hat back on. It looked like a stalling tactic while he figured out what he was going to say. I barely knew him, but I knew that was unusual for him.
    “You’re right.” He stood up. “Come with me.”
    I looked up at him. “Where are we going?”
    “Just come.”
    I stood. “But the clothes…”
    “I can come back and put them in the dryer later. It’ll be