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I roll my eyes at him. “I won’t. I’ve already filled that spot.”
He observes Banner for a split second before his expression fills with mirth. “Who?”
“Banner.”
“What? Why me? I brought blankets,” he argues, looking affronted. “And what about the puddles? Don’t they count for something?”
My lips twist as I tap my chin, pretending to think about it. “Depends how bad this cold will get.”
“Well, it’s gonna get worse if you don’t get in the shower and warm up,” he urges, pushing me towards the bathroom.
I laugh. “Okay. You go shower in the bathroom, I’ll use Mark and Levi’s en-suite.”
“Don’t be long, otherwise this dinner will go dry and taste like shit,” Mark shouts from the kitchen.
Not wanting to make him wait any longer, I rush into his room and turn on the shower. I’m stripped down and about to step inside when I realise I never grabbed any stuff. With Banner in the shower I normally occupy, it’s not like I can go and get them. Instead, I use what Mark has, wincing when I pick up his mint shower gel. I hate the smell of mint. It reminds me of the leaves my granddad likes to chew on. It’s gross.
What’s worse is the second I scrub some onto my skin, it burns, yet feels cold. “Holy fucking Christ. Is there acid in this?” I ask myself, picking the bottle up to read it.
I quickly wash it off, but the cool feeling is still there. I’m grateful Levi doesn’t use cheap men’s shampoo, choosing to use Dove instead. There is no way I’m going to jump in the shower again tonight to wash my hair just because Mark’s shampoo has made it feel like cardboard. I made the mistake of using it when I first got here. It dried rock hard and looked thick with grease.
My mind wanders back to the park and the way Banner held me. He was about to kiss me, there was no mistaking it. And he would have, if that lad hadn’t kicked his football at us. We would have picked up where we left off to if Mark hadn’t had called me. I can’t even be mad at Mark or the lad for interrupting the moment—theperfectmoment for a first kiss—because they didn’t know about it. And deep down, a small part of me is glad the lad kicked the ball at us. My insecurities are screaming at me that I’ll lose him if we ever take our relationship further.
Down on paper, this situation seems pretty straight forward: the girl should just tell the boy she loves him. It’s the advice I would give someone if they were in my situation. The only difference is my feelings. I feel deeply for Banner. It’s the kind of love that only comes once in a lifetime. I’ve loved before, but it’s nothing compared to how I feel about Banner. My heart never skipped when they walked into a room, and I never got that rush I feel whenever I’m around Banner. I also never looked at them the way I look at him. I see beyond the tattoos and good looks. I see him. Just him.
I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around my body and one around my hair.
I’m faced with a serious dilemma: I don’t have any clothes. I smack my forehead, cursing myself. “Shit!”
Peeking my head out the bathroom, I find Mark’s room still empty and his door still closed. I tip toe over, slowly and quietly pushing down the handle and pulling it open. Voices are coming from the kitchen, one belonging to Mark, the other Levi, which means Banner is still in the shower.
Great. This couldn’t get any worse.
Deciding to make a run for it before he finishes in the shower, I open the door and run across the hall to my room. I slam the door closed behind me and walk over to my chest of drawers. Finding a pair of pants, a bra, and some comfy, warm pyjamas, I drop my towel to the floor.
The sound of my door opening has a startled scream escaping me. I bend down to pick up my towel, but it’s too late. Banner stands in the doorway, his jaw slack as he looks me over. I quickly cover myself, frozen in place and too stunned to speak.
He just saw me naked.
He clears his throat, his eyes still on my half-naked body. I shift, wanting to hide, yet… feeling exhilarated at the same time. I’ve never had anyone look at me the way he’s looking at me right now.
“I forgot to take some clothes into the bathroom,” he croaks out.
When I realise I’m still standing here, clutching the towel to my body without saying anything in return, I die of mortification. I want him to stay as much as I want him to leave.
He takes a step forward, his eyes hooded.
“Are you two gonna stare at each other all day or are you going to get dressed and come eat the dinner I’ve slaved away cooking?”
Mark’s voice is like an ice-cold bucket of water thrown at me. I jump, nearly dropping the towel.
“Y-yeah.”
“I was just getting some clothes,” Banner rushes out before quickly grabbing his duffel bag from the floor.
He sends me one more intense gaze that holds a promise before leaving the room. I watch the space he just left for a few more moments, but Mark standing in the doorway snaps me out of it.
“Um, can you shut the door, so I can get dressed?”
