From Across The Hall – 15

“Help.”

Ruben looks away from where he’s been fixing a bracket into the wall for a stubborn shelf and tells himself he doesn’t jump six foot in the air for seeing Sam.

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam says with an apologetic wince and flare of his fingers.

“What is it?”

“I need a shirt. Desperately.”

Ruben’s eyes fall to the front of the shirt Sam is wearing, taking in the coffee that is wicking far and wide. He does not think about what’s under that shirt, or of helping to peel it off h...