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Now I’m just mad. I don’t need his approval. I don’t need anybody’s.
I grab my Kindle and get lost in the book I’m reading until the water starts to get cold. Sighing, I step out of the bath and wrap myself in one of the new fluffy towels. I don’t go back out into the living area, in case he’s out there.
After I’m dried with my pajamas on, I head over to the door and listen out.
I don’t hear any movement out there. Maybe Rock went to bed.
This is really ridiculous. Can I not even walk through my own apartment without fear of running into him? Maybe I acted impulsively. I never should have spied on him.
I mean, this is my home. Not his. He should be the one to leave.
And I need a glass of water, and I’m not going to deny myself my basic human rights.
I tiptoe down the hall. All the lights are off, but I can still see because of the huge windows and the reflection of the city below.
Rock must have gone to bed. I make it to the kitchen, and I see that the take-out containers have been put away. I’m annoyed I didn’t even get to finish my noodles. Asshole.
The next time I decide to stomp off in a huff, I’ll remember to take my food with me.
I go to the fridge and take out a bottle of cold water.
Rock drank from the tap earlier, but I don’t know what the water is like around here. I wouldn’t want to risk it.
I walk over to the large, sliding doors to get some air.
Unlocking the latch, I pull the door aside and step out. The cool night air hits me, and I welcome the breeze on my clammy skin. I only take one step out, as that’s all I need.
My bath made me feel about ten times better. It’s like all the weight of the world on my shoulders has subsided just a little.
I don’t head any closer toward the railing, but I look out across the city. All the traffic and sirens below in the distance seem like white noise compared to LA. The lights are not as blinding, either.
I don’t know how long I stand there for, but when a ripple of cold makes its way up my arms, I shiver and turn back, yelping as I run smack into Rock’s body in the doorway.
“Holy fuck,” I say with a gasp. “Jesus! You scared me!”
“I thought you didn’t like heights?” he says simply, my heart racing ten to the dozen.
“I don’t. But I needed some fresh air, if that’s okay with you?”
As I step inside he reaches behind me, sliding the door closed and latching the lock back into place.
I take those few moments to flick my eyes down toward his bare chest.
Holy fuck.
He’s standing there in his black boxer briefs with nothing else on. Zip. Zero.
His chest is large and muscular, and completely covered in tattoos. His beautiful bronzed skin makes me want to reach out and touch him. To feel his muscles and how smooth his skin is. To trace my fingers over his tattoos as I snake my hand south of the border. I know it’s dark, but even I can see he has a serious bulge going on.
My mouth is dry instantly. I clutch the water bottle in my hand, trying not to squeeze the contents. It’s either that or squeeze my legs together, and it feels like I’ve been doing that a lot today.
Rock is gorgeous.
Not only that, but he has his hair out. It’s just above the shoulders, hanging in long, dark waves.
He ignores me. “Is everythin’ okay?”
“Why would you care?” I blurt out, still annoyed.
