Chapter 2 #2
For how good the day started, it sure ended up in the gutter fast. I need a shower and some pain killers before I can even think about setting my alarm for practice tomorrow.
I push off the heater, the wooden floor cold under my bare feet as I stalk toward the bathroom. I’m halfway down the hallway when the faint splash of water makes me still. When I hear a second splash of water against the tile, I know I’m not going crazy.
I groan, rubbing both hands across my face.
A burst pipe would be the cherry on top of an already fucked day.
I really should’ve stayed at the bar. Another two rounds of tequila would’ve made this somewhat bearable to face.
Who do you even call for a burst pipe on a Sunday night?
Do plumbers offer weekend services? Shit, I bet it would cost twice the normal rate.
I’m halfway through considering billing Matty for a new shower when I hear music. The tinny sound makes the hairs at the back of my neck rise as I realize that a burst pipe might be the least of my concerns.
Who the hell breaks into someone else’s house and takes a shower?
Feeling instantly more sober, I reach inside the door to my room for my spare hockey stick. Clutching it like a weapon, I creep down the hallway, my eyes trained on the bathroom door.
My heart hammers in my chest, threatening to break free as I reach for the handle and twist. The latch releases and I kick at the door until it bangs against the wall, and…
I blink at the very wet and very naked girl standing in the middle of my bathroom.
Startled hazel eyes snap up to mine and she shrieks, her hands frantically grabbing for the closest thing she can find to cover herself up. The next thing I know, my deep green towel is clutched to her chest, blocking out the sight of her curves.
My brain is definitely malfunctioning because all I can do is stare at the fabric like it’s offended me.
Her hair is soaking wet and pulled over one of her shoulders, a trail of water sliding across her collarbone and disappearing beneath the towel.
Even with the towel halfway wrapped around her, all I see is skin.
Glistening, bare skin. And it takes my drunk, frostbitten brain way too long to realize that I shouldn’t staring.
“Get out!” she shrieks, kickstarting my brain.
My eyes snap up to meet hers and I feel like a kid who just got caught doing something he shouldn’t. She looks like she might strangle me with my own towel when I don’t make any move to get out. “I told you to leave!”
She pins the towel to her chest with one hand and grabs for the closest thing on the counter to throw at me. My toothbrush soars through the air and hits me in the forehead, narrowly avoiding poking me in the eye, before it tumbles to the floor.
“Ouch.” I drop my hockey stick on the floor and rub at my forehead. Who knew a tiny piece of plastic could hit that hard. “What did you do that for?”
Her eyes widen as they drop. “Why are you half naked?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
She scowls and reaches one hand back to wrap the towel all the way around her. I can’t tell if I’m relieved or disappointed that I’m no longer distracted by the curve of her hip poking out behind the fabric. Relieved, definitely relieved. “Are you drunk?”
I ignore her. “What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”
“Your apartment?”
“Yes, my apartment. My shower,” I emphasize, crossing my arms over my chest. I probably should hunt down a shirt, but there’s no way I’m letting this stranger run rampant in my apartment. “How did you get in here? Did you follow me?”
“I used my key, asshole,” she snaps.
I blink, trying to compute what she’s saying. How the hell did she get a key? The only other set that exists was Josh’s and I handed those over to the administration office when he was kicked out. “Apparently you’ve got yourself a new roommate.”
“Is this a joke? There’s no way you’re living here.”
“Trust me, it wasn’t my first choice either.”
“But you’re a girl,” I blurt, then wince as I realize how that sounds. Fuck, I really shouldn’t be allowed to talk to pretty girls when I’m drunk.
She rolls her eyes, tightening her grip on her towel. “You’re only just spotting that now?”
My eyes dip of their own accord, taking her in. No, I’m definitely not just noticing that now. I’ve been painfully aware of everything about her since I kicked in the door. Even scowling at me she’s drop-dead gorgeous. The little knot on her towel gives way a bit, teasing me.
Yeah, fantasizing about the naked stranger in my house is definitely a firm no.
“You can’t stay here.”
“Well, I am. Get used to it.” She storms toward me, ramming her shoulder against mine when she passes.
I stumble from the impact, still a little drunk and definitely distracted by the sweet scent she leaves in her wake when she storms down the hall and into the second bedroom—the one that was still empty when I left the apartment this morning.
I scoff when she slams the door behind her, loud enough to wake our downstairs neighbors.
Shaking my head, I step over the small puddle on the spot she was just standing in and close the door so I can wash Matty’s dried vomit off me.
The pile of neatly folded clothes on the counter catches my attention, but it’s the scrap of pink lace peeking out the top that has me groaning and banging my head against the door.
This is the last thing I need.