Chapter 7 #2
The first few rooms are a bust. Either empty or have the curtains drawn. It’s lucky that some hardworking guys have already removed all the shit we put on the windows because I would have been pissed if I cockblocked myself.
There’s a soft glow coming from one of the windows up ahead, so I bypass the ones between and reach for the ledge. Slowly, I lift myself up until I can peer inside and …
Bingo!
The sight of his hair gets me so excited, I lose my grip and slip. My legs buckle, and my hip hits the ground hard.
“Motherfucker!”
Oops.
There’s movement inside, and a moment later, Bailey appears, probably worried about some creeper lurking outside his window.
I want to reassure him it’s only me, but now I think of it, that probably isn’t a whole lot better.
My suspicion is confirmed the second he sees me, and his eyes narrow to a glare.
He reaches out and cracks the window the smallest amount.
“What are you doing, Chad?”
“Cringing in pain.”
“Right.” He tilts his head, looking skeptically along both sides of the small walkway between the house and the fence, and it takes me a minute to work out what he’s looking for.
“No, no. It’s only me.”
Bailey studies me a moment more before sliding his window all the way open. “If you’re here for some dumb prank—”
“I’m not. Swear it. Now budge over.”
“Wha …”
I grab his ledge and pull myself up again, this time managing to get high enough that I can cross my arms on the windowsill. We’re face-to-face and so close I can make out the freckles on his nose, even in the low light. “Ah, hi.”
“Hey.” He glances around again, and his paranoia makes me laugh.
“I swear it’s just me. Not sure if that’s a good thing or not, but …”
His attention falls back on me, and it finally looks like he believes I’m not here for nefarious reasons. “What are you wearing?”
“Long story.” I pluck at the toga. “You don’t think it looks good?”
His stare drops, lingers on my chest. I want to puff up like a peacock and put myself on display for him.
“Why are you here?” he asks instead of answering.
“I’ll answer why. I actually have amazing reasons for doing the things that I do, but for right now, can you back up a bit so I can come in? This is sorta uncomfortable.”
His lips twitch. “Oh, the old ‘uncomfortable windowsill’ line, huh?” He steps back. “I don’t trust you in my room, but you can sit on the ledge.”
“Good enough for me.” I walk my way up the cladding on the house and plop down on the timber sill. “Much better.”
Bailey grabs his desk chair and straddles it beside me, which of course only reminds me of when it was my lap he had between his legs. “Well, now you’re comfortable, are you going to answer my question?”
“Question?”
He lifts his eyebrows like he’s not going to play my game. Turns out Bailey is a hard-ass. Can’t we both pretend like this is a normal thing people do?
“Ah, yes. Question. Right,” I say.
“I’m dying to know what this amazing reason you’re here is.”
“Someone’s a smart-ass,” I point out.
“Someone’s creeping in through my bedroom window at midnight like my own personal Edward Cullen.”
I snort. “Please. I’m so much hotter than that dude.”
“Truth. But at least he was up-front about why he was so creepy.”
“Would we call it creepy?”
“We would.” He’s almost smiling. “And you’re avoiding the question.”
“Never. I’m just super interested in this Twilight obsession of yours. So interested, in fact, I demand you rate every single character from all four movies in order of hotness. I can wait.”
“Chad.” A laugh bursts from him as he stands again. “Tell me why you’re here, or I’ll push you off.”
“Threatening violence? Sheesh. I’m hurt. A guy can’t even peer into another guy’s window in the dead of night anymore. What is this world coming to?”
“Okay, goodbye.” Bailey grabs my arm, but before he can push me, my hand closes over his.
“I wanted to see you. Happy?”
He blinks in surprise. Which is hilarious when I’m literally sitting here in his window when I could be a hundred other places. Come on, Bailey. Get a clue.
“Gonna tease me?” I ask dryly.
He slowly shakes his head as his hold on me loosens. We watch each other warily for a moment, and with the way his head is tilted, I can only make out one side of his face. His lips are a perfect bow, and I want to trace them with my tongue.
Bailey clears his throat. “How badly do you want to get laid?”
“Is that an invitation?”
“You don’t give up easily, do you?”
“Hey, normally I do. This persistence is coming as a surprise to me too, dude.”
He catches his bottom lip with his teeth. “I’ll make you a deal.”
Deals are fun. “Yeah, of course.”
I’m on edge for what he’s going to say.
Shared BJs and never see each other again?
A bit of secret frottage?
A quick window jerk-off in exchange for more shit from my house?
That’s about the only one I wouldn’t agree to. Maybe. I think.
Bailey grabs something on his desk, and I watch from behind as his hand moves for a moment.
He’s wearing sweats and a long-sleeved T-shirt and it might be fall but it’s not cold yet.
It makes me want to point out that I naturally run warm, so if he’s into sleeping naked, I’ve got him. No chills when I’m around.
“Here.” He steps closer and holds out a piece of paper.
“What’s this?”
“My number.”
My gut swoops. “You’re giving me your number?”
“If …” He tugs it out of reach. “You promise never to call me dude again.”
Huh. Not what I was expecting, and yet … I’m oddly excited by his offer.
I chuckle. “Done.”
My hand closes over the piece of paper, and we both hesitate, warm skin on warm skin, my fingers stroking softly over his wrist.
He pulls away. “I’m going to bed now.”
“I could join you.”
“Sure.”
Wait, what? “Seriously?”
“No.” He grins. “Get out of my room.”
I grumble the whole way back to the ground, not giving a shit who hears me. Bailey appears overhead, leaning on his crossed arms, and he looks so relaxed I want to scale the house again and kiss him.
That might be pushing it though.
“Text me,” he says.
“You’re so gonna regret that.” I press a kiss to the paper as I back up. “You think I’m irresistible now, just wait until—oomph.” I collide with the fence so hard it sends a jolt of pain through my already sore shoulder.
Bailey’s soft laughter makes me frown.
“Wow. You’re mean after midnight,” I complain.
“I’m sort of like Cinderella. Except instead of turning into a maid, the lack of sleep makes me nasty as fuck.”
“I like this princess version of you.” When his face falls, it reminds me of something. “Your last name is Prince, right? Well, I guess we’ve found your new nickname.”
“Don’t you dare.”
I pretend to punch something in my phone. “Sorry, you’re saved under Princess now. First nicknames are sacred.”
“Well, that sounds like bullshit.”
“Hand on heart. Our relationship won’t survive if I change it now.”
“I take it back. Call me dude again.”
“Too late.” I turn and start to walk away. “Sweet dreams, Princess.”