I don't know where to start; there are so many different places to explore. I take a sip of my wine and examine the top of the chest of drawers beside the door. There's a football trophy for 'Player of the Year' from 1994 next to a small black picture frame of a young boy and Eloise. Oh my god, that's him. I pick up the frame to examine it more closely. Eloise is holding Rhodes by his waist as Rhodes proudly holds up a fish to show the camera. His small body is dwarfed by a gigantic lifejacket, his hair showing no signs of curls at this point. He looks very young, maybe around 6 or 7.
"Nosy," Rhodes's soft voice almost causes me to drop both the glass in my left hand and the picture frame in my right. His body is leaning against the door frame, a bottle of beer in his hand resting by his side. "Why did you run off?" he asks curiously as I return the frame to its original placement.
I shrug and take another sip, looking at some of the drawings hanging on the walls. Robots and superheroes colored haphazardly in bright felt-tip markers cover the space above his dresser.
"I thought you two might want to catch up without me there. I felt like I was intruding," I mumble, taking another sip of my wine. Rhodes softly chuckles as I cross the room slowly to a small wooden desk.
"Emily's an old family friend, why am I sensing some jealousy?" Rhodes teases quietly, his legs carrying him across the floor to stand by me after he shuts the door.
"Practically the first thing she said to me was that your families always thought you two would get married. I don't know, it just weirded me out. I didn't want to stick around and watch her flirt with you in front of me," I shrug again. I feel embarrassed; it sounds a little pathetic. I try and distract myself with the objects of Rhodes's room. Some old school books are piled to one side underneath a small blue lamp.
"Bub, she's no threat to you, trust me," Rhodes mumbles in my ear, placing his hands on my hips and pressing himself against me from behind. His head dips down to press soft kisses along my neck.
"She's pretty," I tell him quietly, tilting my head backward to give him more access to my neck. I'm putty in his hands when he starts nipping at the skin delicately, and he knows it.