But, unfortunately, when I get out of the tub, I realize I’ve forgotten to bring a bathrobe. All that’s here is a single white fluffy towel. It’s a bath towel, but it’s not all that big.
I dry off and carefully wrap it around me. It covers the important bits, but only just.
It’s got to be four feet or less between the bathroom and my bedroom door, so getting from A to B and should be able to happen without a hitch.
Wrong.
Of course he’s in the hallway when I do. Of course!
He’s heading to the kitchen and we almost collide. He’s in a pair of dark wash button-fly jeans, Converse on his feet, and he’s wearing a tight black AC/DC t-shirt.
God, he’s hot. It’s not fair for such a jerk to be so unbelievably good-looking. Why can’t I stop thinking about it? Why can’t I just dismiss his looks like a non-shallow person? I’m not usually so shallow. Is Carly 2.0 shallow?
“Oop!” I say, sidestepping, noting his eyes are perked.
I’ve got my phone and my mug in one hand and come very, very close to losing my towel. I fumble and save it by the skin of my teeth.
Oh, for fucking real? Gimme a goddamn break!
I hear him chuckle as I get my bedroom door slammed.
As soon as the door shuts, I lose my towel and my phone. I throw my arms up in the air and ask the universe, “Really? Really?”
Ugh. At least he didn’t see that.
I get into my undies and bra, then a pair of
white jeans with some selective distressing, raggedy hems, a nice royal blue blouse with a deep V, and put on a chunky necklace and some big hoop earrings.
I head out to grab a coffee refill after I’ve tackled my make-up and he’s here, in the kitchen, drinking coffee and scrolling on his phone screen.
He glances at me, looks down, and then his eyes shoot back up as his eyes devour me.
No, don’t look at me like that, alphahole.
I get my mug to the coffee maker. He’s leaning right against the counter beside it.
He doesn’t move.
“Excuse me,” I request.
He still doesn’t move.
I look at him. He’s looking back at me with heat emanating.
“Thanks for not trying to make this awkward,’ I snap, snarkily.
“Awkward?”
“You saw me naked last night. You almost caught another show today.”
“I don’t feel awkward.” He shrugs.
I roll my eyes. “Well, bully for you.”
“Would you feel better if we made it even?” he offers.
“What?” I ask.