From below, the German said, “Goodnight, schnecke.”

“You’re not calling me a shithead or anything, are you?” I yawned again, drawing the sheet up higher to cover my eyes.

“No,” he replied simply.

“Okay. If you want to go home tomorrow or if you’d rather stay in a hotel if you aren’t comfortable, let me know, all right?”

“Yes.”

One last lion-like yawn made my chest expand wide. “Okay. Night, night.”

He might have said “Goodnight” again, but I was pretty much out the second I finished talking.

* * *

I crept down the bunk-bed stairs when the room was still dark. It didn’t matter if I set an alarm; more often than not, my body just knew it was time to get up. As quietly as I could I fumbled around for my clothes, barely able to see. I pulled my nightshirt up over my head…

Then the fan light came on.

I froze. I froze there in my underwear, wearing nothing else.

“What are you doing?” Kulti’s sleep-thick voice asked.

Well then. I could freak out and make a big deal out of standing there mostly naked, or I could take it like a champ and make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal that I was topless and in one of my oldest pairs of value-pack panties.

“I’m going for a run,” I said slowly in a whisper, still not moving an inch. “Go back to sleep.”

There was a pause and then the mattress started creaking. I knew beforehand what he was going to say. “I’ll come.”

Oh dear God.

I went to my knees as fast as possible and now that I was able to see, pulled my sports bra on as fast as lightning just as the shrill squeak of what had to be Kulti getting off the bed warned me my time was up. I didn’t even let myself think that he’d probably caught a glimpse of side boob. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen hundreds of boobs before but these were mine. Wearing a sports bra was one thing, boobs flopping freely was another.

I yanked a racer-back tank on before standing up, already holding my running shorts in one hand, ready to pull them on as soon as possible. But I sure as shit wasn’t going to bend over and put them on with my butt facing him.

Except just as I turned around, I stopped. Because the German was facing me, watching me as he stood there in boxer briefs. Only boxer briefs. Was his face all sleepy? Maybe, but I sure as hell wasn’t looking at his face when I turned around. All I saw were his flat six-pack abs and square pecs, the low rise of his heather-gray boxer briefs and wood.

The morning wood tucked against his thigh.

I coughed and eyed his thigh one more time before quickly stepping into my shorts and pulling them up my legs, just as he pulled up his own pair of running shorts.

I couldn’t breathe, and I really couldn’t look him in the face as I grabbed my socks off the floor. “Umm, I’ll, uh, wait for you in the kitchen.”

He grunted his agreement and I hauled ass out of there, walking out before I remembered I left my shoes in the room. I went back in, grabbed them without looking at the boner—I mean, Kulti—and going back out. My dad was already gone, the coffeepot was on for my mom who was already getting ready for work. I filled up two water bottles from the collection I had here and drank a glass while I waited for the German. It didn’t occur to me until he arrived in the kitchen that I should have brushed my teeth.

“Ready?” I asked.

Sleepy and his eyes and cheeks puffy, he nodded.

Don’t glance at his crotch, don’t glance at his crotch.

I glanced. Just real quick.

“Eyes up here, Taco.”

I wanted to die. “What?” I slowly looked up to see a smug look on his swollen mouth.