The Wright Way

Chapter 17 - The Wright Way

"How about this one?" I turn around, holding one of my tee shirts.

Joshua wrinkles his nose. "Don't you have anything with long sleeves?"

"Sure, but isn't it a bit warm for that?"

He gives a one shoulder shrug. "I like long sleeves."

"Okay." I return the tee shirt to the wardrobe and reach for the shelf with winter clothing. "Is that why you used to wear that long coat in any weather?"

He doesn't answer, but when I turn around again, he's regarding me suspiciously.

"I see you've noticed me long before I've noticed you," he says.

I shrug. "You're pretty... noticeable."

He hums thoughtfully. "That I am."

He takes the dark grey Henley shirt from me and puts it against his chest. On him, it looks like a tunic.

"Will do for now," he says. "Turn away."

It takes me a moment to realize what he wants. Working with guys who have no problem changing in front of each other, I've forgotten that some people can be uncomfortable with that. If anything, I didn't expect that of him.

"Sure." I turn back to the wardrobe and start looking through my pants. "Didn't think you have problems with being looked at. You perform onstage, after all."

"I do that when fully dressed, in case you haven't noticed," he says behind my back. "Anyway, I'll go shopping for clothes tomorrow."

"You do have money, right? Savings and such?"

"Yeah, a couple of thousand in my bank account."

"That's all?" Surprised, I turn around and find him naked above the waist, preparing to put my shirt on. My eyes register his pale slim torso and his startled eyes before I realize my mistake and look away again. "Sorry."

"No big deal," he says coolly, and I hear the soft sounds of fabric sliding against skin.

I look at the mess of crumpled clothes in the wardrobe. I really should bring myself to fold them some day. It's impossible to find anything.

"How do you have so little savings? You had a job."

"Singing two evenings a week isn't much of a job. Also, I kept most of my cash hidden in my room, so it all went up in flames last night."

That makes me look at him again, and he meets my eyes calmly, already dressed.

"Why didn't you keep all your money in a bank?"

He frowns. "Are you criticizing my choices again?"

"Well, you can't argue that that one wasn't very smart."

"Even so, I still didn't ask for your opinion." He looks around. "Do you have a mirror?"

"In the bathroom."

"Yeah, a small one—but don't you have one you can actually see yourself in?" He raises an eyebrow as I shake my head. "How can you live without one? I was the first thing I bought when I moved into that basement room. You gotta know how you look."

"I know how I look."

"Gosh, such confidence." He rolls his eyes before turning around and heading for the kitchen. He actually looks pretty funny in my baggy Henley shirt. Being not only shorter than me but also narrower in the shoulders, he looks like a kid wearing his big brother's outfit.

I push the piles of clothes deeper into the shelves to allow closing the wardrobe door, and then follow him. By the time I step into the kitchen he's already going through drawers and cabinets.