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My eyes frantically scan the room. There’s always a towel lying discarded somewhere in this room, but for the first time ever, there isn’t. All because I did laundry this morning. Damn laundry.
Crap. “Um, Tyler?” I call through the bathroom door. “Tyler!”
“What’s wrong?” The door rattles as he leans against it or something.
“I, um, I forgot my towel.”
He pauses. “You forgot your towel?”
“Yes, and now I’m getting cold, so could you get me one? Please?” I can’t believe I’m asking this. Fuck my life.
“Where are they?”
“In the closet behind you. Second shelf.” Oh, God. Please don’t find the Hello Kitty one.
“Hello Kitty. Nice.” He laughs.
“Can you just pass me the damn towel?”
“I would love to, baby girl, but I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“The door’s still shut,” he replies.
Oh, no. I didn’t consider opening the door. “Okay. Don’t look.” Who the hell am I kidding? He’s going to do his best to get an eyeful and then some.
I push the door open and, hiding behind it, slide my hand through the crack. He puts the towel in my hand and I snatch it through, slamming the door before wrapping myself in the pink towel.
I open the door again and come face to face with him. He’s smirking, and he looks down at me without saying a word. If he feels half as awkward as I do, then, well… This is a really awkward situation.
A blush rises from my chest, flushing my neck and cheeks. “Excuse me,” I say more confidently than I feel, stepping around him to the closet for a towel for my hair. I grab one from the closet and bend forward, flipping my hair over my head.
Tyler hisses in a sharp breath. “Liv,” he growls. His fingers brush across my ass, and I realize that he can see everything under my towel when I’m like this.
Oh shit, indeed.
“Go and put some clothes on,” he grinds out, his hand falling away.
I can still feel where his fingers touched me, where they burned into the bareness of my behind, and I take in a breath as heavy as his was. I quickly wrap my hair and straighten, running into my bedroom. I glance at him before I shut the door.
His eyes are fixed on me, and the heat flaring in them warns me of what will happen if I don’t get dressed. It warns of touches and caresses and kisses and sucks. It warns of everything I dreamed of last night.
The door clicks shut. I lean against it, exhaling slowly with my eyes closed. I fist my towel. I can still feel his eyes boring into me through the wood. Almost like he’s begging me to open the door and walk up to him.
But I can’t. I won’t. I can’t and I won’t because that’ll only end one way.
I pull my underwear on under the towel, apparently still in teenage-girl mode, and grab some pants and a sweater. I get dressed in record time and chuck the towel on my bed. I tease my wet hair into a high, loose bun in front of my bedroom mirror and apply minimal makeup before stepping out of my room.
And back in. And back out. And back in.
I’m doing the fucking Hokey Pokey.
Finally settling on ‘out,’ I walk into the front room and stop when I see Tyler standing in front of my window, his fists clenched at his sides. I grab my keys from the table and the noise must notify him of my presence because he turns.
His eyes meet mine and stay there. Tension zings between us, tightening with every second of silence that passes. He steps forward, just one step, but it’s enough to make me draw in a breath.
“We need to go,” he rasps, walking past me in strong strides.
