By the time Sarah pulled up to the house on a cold winter's evening, the sun had long gone down. She hurried to the front door, her bag packed for a long weekend stay firmly grasped in her slender hands, and rang the doorbell.

“Sarah!” exclaimed Becky, throwing the front door wide open to welcome her friend. They hadn’t seen each other in six months, but they were about to enjoy a long weekend together at Becky’s dad’s house. “It’s been too long,” came Sarah’s reply.

Becky’s dad’s house was dimly lit and warm. He had lived here for six years now, having split from Becky’s mum. Sarah had met him several times two years ago when she had stayed over before.

“Is your dad around this weekend?” asked Sarah, and Becky filled her in—he was supposed to be away for work, but at the last minute, it had been cancelled, and he would be around all weekend. “But don’t worry; he’s busy with things around the house—he won’t bother us.”

Sarah and Becky spent the next few hours catching up, sitting at the table in the large kitchen. They had just received their pizza delivery and were eating directly from the boxes when Becky’s dad walked in.

“Hi, girls! How are you doing? And nice to see you again, Sarah.”

“I’m good, thank…” she hesitated as she stepped over to pick up a slice of pizza from the box. “You don’t mind, do you, Sarah?” he asked.

“No, no, not at all,” she replied.

He finished the slice, and as he moved toward the fridge, Sarah couldn’t help but notice that he looked much the same as she remembered—though now his presence felt different, sharper somehow. The warm kitchen light caught on his forearms as he reached for the fridge, his sleeves rolled up, displaying the veins that ran across his skin. At 40, he was still fit and youthful, exuding a quiet confidence in his movements that pulled her gaze. She forced herself to look back at her pizza, wondering why she suddenly felt her heartbeat quicken.

“Do you girls want a glass of wine? I’ve got some white in the fridge if you’d like that,” he offered.

He poured three generous glasses of white wine and brought two over to the table for Becky and Sarah. He placed Becky’s down first, and then leaned over Sarah to place hers down too. “Here you go,” he said as his arm reached around her. She couldn’t help but feel the warmth of his body against her back and deeply inhale his aftershave. Her toes curled with joy at the experience. “Right, I’ll leave you two to it—I’ll be in the front room if you need me.”

The rest of the evening consisted of pizza, wine, and chatting, and by 11 PM, both were ready for bed. “Just share the bed with me tonight, and we can sort out the spare room tomorrow. And remember, I’ve got to go into work for a few hours tomorrow,” Becky explained as they climbed the stairs, taking Sarah’s bag with them.

At the top of the stairs, the hallway split in two directions: to the left was Becky’s dad’s bedroom, study, and bathroom; to the right was Becky’s room, bathroom, and spare room.

They entered Becky’s room, and Sarah began to unpack her things. “Oh, shit—I’ve forgotten my PJs!”

“Don’t worry; there are some clothes in the spare room. Go and grab whatever you want,” Becky assured her.

Sarah walked across the hall and into the spare room right next door, opening the cupboard. Flicking through the clothes, she picked out a large t-shirt. Slipping out of her clothes and leaving on just her panties, she pulled the t-shirt over her head. The soft, worn fabric settled against her skin, holding a lingering warmth that made her pause. As she adjusted the t-shirt, the scent of aftershave enveloped her—deep, woodsy, and familiar. She took a slow breath, letting the smell settle inside her, and felt a surprising thrill at the way it seemed to wrap around her, intimate and inescapable. She’d smelled this aftershave before.

“Sorry, is this your dad’s t-shirt?” she asked, re-entering Becky’s room and clutching her dirty clothes.

“It looks like it… But don’t worry, he won’t mind. Anyway, I’m going to grab a quick shower—I’ll be back in 10,” Becky said before leaving the room while Sarah finished unpacking and grabbed her toiletry bag.

“Can I come in?” Sarah asked through the bathroom door, but Becky was already in the shower and had locked the door. Sarah glanced down the long hallway toward his bathroom and considered just brushing her teeth in there.

Tentatively walking along the hallway, she could see the lights were still on downstairs. “He must still be down there,” she thought to herself, “and I’m sure he won’t mind.” She approached his bathroom door, grasped the handle, and opened it.

Frozen, she saw him with his back toward her at the sink, toothbrush in his mouth and a towel wrapped around his waist—he must have just showered too. “Sorry, Sarah,” he said, putting down the toothbrush, “I followed you girls up and grabbed a quick shower. I should have locked the door.”

To which Sarah replied abruptly, “Yes, you should have.”

From his facial expression in the mirror, she could see he didn’t appreciate that response. “Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t lock my bathroom door in my house. I’ll be another minute; you can wait outside.” She closed the door and stood in the hallway, wondering if he was genuinely annoyed or just teasing her. She overwhelmingly felt both chastised by and oddly attracted to him.

Two minutes later, the door opened again. “All yours.” He didn’t seem at all embarrassed about being just in a towel or by what had just happened. “Is that my t-shirt you’re wearing, Sarah?”

Suddenly blushing and self-conscious, Sarah tugged down on the t-shirt to hide her panties—but he never looked down, keeping eye contact with her throughout. “Oh, yes, sorry—Becky said it would be fine.” He grunted some form of approval. “In you come then; I’ll get out of your way.” Clumsily, she didn’t wait for him to exit the doorway before trying to walk in herself. “No need to rush, Sarah,” he laughed, his big hands instinctively grabbing her waist as she awkwardly squeezed by him. She couldn’t help but tingle at his touch, feeling both small and protected. “Goodnight, Sarah,” he said as he walked away into his bedroom.

Sarah spent the next few minutes admiring her own blushing face and brushing her teeth. Once done, she hurried back to Becky’s room, hoping to avoid awkwardly bumping into him again. She could see the lights downstairs were now turned off. He must have gone down and switched them off while she was in the bathroom.

“Did you bump into my dad?” Becky asked as Sarah climbed into bed.

“Um, yeah, he said goodnight,” she replied, her conflicted feelings towards him causing her to trip over her words a little. She drifted off, her head full of conflicting thoughts about her encounters with him that night. “Was he flirting? Was I flirting?” she wondered. A small sense of guilt crept over her too. “Why am I thinking about Becky’s dad like this, especially when she is sharing her bed with me?”

That night, she had the strangest dream, being pursued through the woods while only wearing a t-shirt and panties. She couldn’t work out what was pursuing her, but no matter how fast she moved, it just kept catching up with her. Finally, she felt two big hands clutch her waist and the smell of aftershave. She turned around to see her pursuer…

A hairdryer’s hum woke her. It was morning already, and Becky was getting ready to go into work. “Did you shower again?” she asked her.

“Yeah, I didn’t wash my hair last night, and I really should have—had to do it this morning instead.”

Sarah drifted in and out of sleep while Becky finished getting ready. “Right, I’m off—see you in a few hours. I think Dad is out too, so you’ve got the place to yourself.”

Sarah lounged in bed for a little while before hopping out. She realised her toenails were in need of painting, having removed the polish before driving over the night before. She flicked through Becky’s collection of nail polishes and picked out her favourite colour. She sat on the bed and applied it. The smell of the polish overpowered the scent of aftershave on the t-shirt. She missed it.

Waiting for her toenails to dry, she wondered what brand the aftershave was. She hadn’t smelled the fragrance before yesterday and concluded that she must really like it—after all, it had even been in her dream. “He’ll have the bottle in his bathroom, I bet,” she thought.

Gently stepping down the hallway, she walked past the top of the stairs. “It’s very quiet; he must be out,” she thought to herself. Entering his bathroom, she searched for his aftershaves, but they didn’t appear to be there. “They must be in his room, I suppose.”

Stepping out of his bathroom, she wondered if it was a good idea to be walking around the house still in a t-shirt and panties. “I’ll grab a shower and get dressed in a moment,” she concluded. Then she noticed that his bedroom door was slightly ajar.

Having spent several minutes outside his bedroom door, listening for any movement in the house, she reassured herself that she was alone. “Why am I hunting down this bloody aftershave, though? This is silly,” she pondered, but still, she gently pushed open the ajar door and squeezed in, not daring to open it too wide.

Panic instantly set in as she saw him asleep in his bed. Sunlight barely made it through the blinds, but she could see his body lying there, with a fresh white bedsheet covering his lower half. One leg was also uncovered, up to his thigh.

“Can I help you, young lady?” His voice, low and edged with amusement, startled her. Sarah froze, blushing as she stammered, “I—I’m sorry, I was… just looking for the bathroom.” The lie sounded weak even to her own ears. He sat up, raised an eyebrow, his gaze now holding hers with unnerving calm. “The bathroom I just heard you come out of, Sarah?” His eyes didn’t leave her, making her suddenly all too aware of his t-shirt shirt hanging just a little too loosely around her shoulders and of her bare legs. She opened her mouth to apologise again but couldn’t find the words.

“I better go and get a shower now,” she finally said.

“You’d better. Oh, and Sarah, I’d like my t-shirt back, please.”

“Of course, I’ll bring it back after my shower,” she blurted out and turned towards the door to leave.

She heard movement behind her and looked back over her shoulder. He was now sitting on the edge of the bed, the bedsheet bunched up and just covering his groin.

“No, Sarah, I’d like it back now, if you don’t mind.”

//END OF PART 1