Chapter 148
**Sara**
I stepped out of the shower, water dripping from my body as I reached for a towel. Tom had already dried off and wrapped a towel around his waist, looking unfairly good with his damp hair and glistening chest.
"Uh, slight problem," I said, glancing around the bathroom. "I don't exactly have a change of clothes here."
"Well, we can't have you running around naked, can we? Though I wouldn't complain."
"Dream on. Got anything I can borrow?"
He disappeared into his bedroom and returned with a T-shirt and a pair of shorts, now fully dressed in similar attire. "Will these do?" he asked, holding out the clothes with a smile. I noticed how the simple outfit somehow accentuated his athletic build. The T-shirt hugged his broad shoulders, and the shorts revealed his toned legs. I swallowed hard, trying to focus on the offered clothing rather than the man wearing it.
I slipped the shirt over my head, the soft fabric falling to my mid-thigh. It smelled like him – a mix of cologne and something uniquely Tom. The shorts were a different story. I held them up, raising an eyebrow.
"These are gonna be huge on me."
Tom shrugged. "Maybe you don't need them."
"Nice try," I laughed, stepping into the shorts and tightening the drawstring as much as possible. They still hung low on my hips, threatening to fall at any moment.
I looked at myself in the mirror and couldn't help but giggle. The shirt was like a dress on me, and the shorts peeked out just below the hem, making me look like I was wearing some weird, mismatched outfit.
"I look ridiculous," I said, turning to face Tom.
His eyes swept over me as a slow smile spread across his face. "I think you look sexy as hell."
"In your oversized clothes? Yeah, right."
"There's something about a woman in my clothes," he said, stepping closer. His hands found my waist, fingers playing with the hem of the shirt. "It's... possessive. In a good way."
I leaned into him, enjoying the warmth of his body against mine. "Possessive, huh? Careful, Tom. Your caveman is showing."
"Can't help it. You bring out the primitive in me."
I was about to retort when I remembered my own clothes. "Wait, what about my stuff? I can't exactly go home in this getup."
Tom glanced at the pile of my discarded clothes on the bathroom floor. "Good point. Can't have you doing the walk of shame in my clothes. Though it might be a good look for you."
"Yeah, because nothing says 'I'm a responsible adult' like wearing my professor's oversized t-shirt and shorts."
"Fair enough," he chuckled. "Tell you what, I'll throw them in the wash. They'll be ready before you need to leave."
"My hero," I said, batting my eyelashes dramatically.
He gathered up my clothes, including my bra and panties, which made me feel strangely exposed even though I was technically dressed. I followed him out of the bathroom, trying not to trip over the too-long shorts.
I watched as he tossed my clothes into the washing machine. "You know, I could've done that myself."
"And miss the chance to handle your delicates? Never," he winked, holding up my lacy bra.
"Careful there. That's some dangerous territory you're treading."
He dropped the bra into the machine and added detergent. "I think we're well past dangerous territory, don't you?"
As the machine whirred to life, I leaned against the doorframe, suddenly aware that I was alone in Tom's apartment, wearing his clothes and having my outfit spin in his washer.
"So," I said, trying to sound casual, "what now?"
He ran a hand through his damp hair, eyes roaming over me in oversized clothes. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Working up quite an appetite in that shower."
I felt my cheeks flush, remembering our steamy encounter. "Yeah, I could eat. You gonna cook for me?"
He let out a dramatic groan. "As much as I'd love to impress you with my culinary skills, I don't think I have the energy right now. How about we order in?"
"Sounds perfect. What are you in the mood for?"
He wiggled his eyebrows. "Besides you?"
"Food, Tom. Actual sustenance."
"Alright, alright. How about pizza? There's this great place nearby that does a mean Margherita."
"Sold," I said, my stomach growling at the mere mention of food. "As long as they don't skimp on the cheese."
Tom grabbed his phone and placed the order while I made myself comfortable on his couch, tucking my legs under me and trying not to drown in his oversized clothes. When he finished, he joined me, lifting my legs and draping them over his lap.
"Twenty minutes," he said, tracing patterns on my shin. "Whatever shall we do to pass the time?"
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Don't get any ideas, mister. I'm still recovering from our shower escapade."
"Can't blame a guy for trying."
I laughed, shifting my position on the couch to face him better. "Oh, I can absolutely blame you. In fact, I think I will."
His fingers continued their lazy trail up and down my leg, sending little shivers through me. "Blame away. I can take it."
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