Slippery When Wet
By: IsisIzabel
--
He smelled terrible.
Nate closed the door to the Humphrey's studio apartment and immediately stripped off the soccer jersey he wore, kicking off his cleats simultaneously as he headed for the bathroom. The showers at school were being renovated, so he had been forced to ride the bus to the West Side smelling like moldy gym socks. A shower was a necessity.
He paused long enough to slip out of the mesh running shorts and socks, leaving him clad only in his boxers as he crossed the room. He silently vowed to clean up the mess he was leaving in his wake after twenty minutes of standing under the hot spray. It was taking a bit of getting used to—not having a maid that regularly cleaned up his messes.
Mr. Humphrey would be at the gallery until late, and Dan was working on a research paper at the library, Jenny was visiting her mom, which left Nate to the solitude of the apartment. He was truly looking forward to it.
Not that he wasn't grateful to the Humphrey's for letting him crash. Staying at his abandoned townhouse had been lonelier than even he would admit, and he liked the Humphreys. They were easily the most functional family unit he'd been around in a long while, and they readily accepted him into their fold. He had never once felt like an outsider, but he was beginning to miss the sanctuary of his own room. Of being alone.
Reaching the bathroom, Nate swung open the door and froze.
Jenny spun, her damp blonde hair swinging around her face, a towel clutch against her stomach. Her mouth dropped open in shock as she realized she was standing in front of Nate Archibald in little more than a lacy pink bra and matching French cut underwear.
"Oh, my, God," Nate whispered, backing away, but unable to tear his eyes away. This was wrong, it was all wrong.
Jenny was like his little sister.
He shouldn't be looking at her like … this.
"Nate!" Jenny squeaked, bringing the towel up higher to cover her front.
"I'm so sorry," he apologized, managing to tear his eyes away. He pivoted, presenting his bare back to her.
Mortified, Jenny hurriedly dropped the towel and struggled to pull a shirt over her head. Her jeans proved a bit trickier with her wet skin. She grimaced as she fought to pull them up.
"I thought ... I thought you were at you mom's," Nate stammered, rolling his eyes to the heavens and wondering if he would ever get the image of her standing in front of him in her underwear out of his brain. He scrubbed a hand over his face.
No. It was branded there. He knew it.
"We got in a fight and I left," Jenny muttered, finally zipping her jeans. "Um … OK. I'm decent. I guess."
Nate turned slowly, as if he wasn't sure she was telling the truth, and dared to look at her. "Jenny, I'm really sorry."
She tried to smile, praying he would think the crimson staining her cheeks was from the hot water and not embarrassment. "It's OK. You didn't mean for it to happen."
"No!" he answered quickly, loudly. "No! I would … I would never—"
"It's really OK," she said assured him. She started out of the bathroom. "Shower's all—"
He wet feet hit the hardwood floor and she was sliding, going down, when strong arms caught her around the waist. When her feet stopped moving, she found her back was now nestled tightly against Nate's front.
His bare front.
She turned her head, suddenly realizing how close they were. Their faces were barely an inch apart. She could smell the minty flavor of his gum, and his arm wrapped around her waist was taking her mind places it really shouldn't go.
"You OK?"
Was it her, or did his voice drop an octave?
"Yeah. Thanks for the save."
God, his eyes were impossibly blue. And that little half smile, half smirk he did with his lips should be outlawed.
Nate slowly removed his arm from around her body, his brain finally kicking into gear and reminding him he smelled horrible. Last thing he needed was for Jenny to associate his scent with something she smelled walking past a dumpster. He had to step away.
Jenny stood, rooting to the spot, her eyes locked with his. She watched his eye move over the slowly, assessing her.
Nate blinked then, coming back into focus. "Um … if you're done …"
"Yeah, yeah," she nodded quickly, sidestepping him. "I'm just gonna … go."
"Right," he replied softly, watching as she flashed him a quick smile and headed for her room. The door shut quietly behind her and Nate headed into the bathroom, closing the door and flipping the lock.
Nate went to the sink and stared at his reflection. He shook his head ruefully at the shell-shocked image of himself.
"Don't even go there, Archibald," he reminded himself quietly. "She's Dan's sister. She's two years younger than you."
He turned and looked at the shower. The remnants of her presence in the bathroom were heady. The room was thick with moisture, all of it scented with vanilla and strawberries.
It smelled like Jenny.
Nate groaned and hung his head. He was screwed.
