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"I didn't order anything else," I retort, confusion hanging from my words.
"Your friend said they are your favorite," she replies, looking back toward Tony who has the biggest shit-eating grin.
"I open the box and the scent instantly brings me back to that night. Fucking ghost pepper wings.
"You're an asshole," I throw the insult across the table to my friend, the rest of the table erupting in shared laughter at my expense.
It's been a quiet night and as much as I welcome the distraction of work, we are mostly standing around which is doing little for keeping my mind occupied. I even tried to float to other departments to see if they could use my help and instead was told to go home early. What they don't know is that I am avoiding going home early because after seeing Andrew earlier today, I am at the end of my leash and might not be able to keep myself away from my sexy-as-sin roommate.
Damn, Mel you're like a bitch in heat. Calm yourself down before you do something crazy.
"I am heading home and you should too. You got here early which means you get to leave early, let's go." Darren latches on to me like a tow truck, pulling me towards the locker room. I know he is dying to get home to Ella. He always is. It's like as soon as he gets here, he would rather be wherever she is. But he stays because helping people is what he was made to do, just like me.
"I haven't been sleeping the last few nights." I admit. I say nights because it makes more sense then saying days, even though that's when I rest.
"New roommate giving you trouble? I told Dee that it wasn't fair to leave you in the middle of your lease."
"Just adjusting to living with a guy." I leave out the details, pulling my arms into my coat and dragging the zipper up.
"We aren't the easiest to live with, but I have known Ash for a long time and trust me, he is a good guy. He's just young. I mean shit, he's gotta be like nineteen or something like that."
"He's what?" I ask in disbelief. There's no way. He has great skin but I never thought it was because of his age, I assumed it was from him having a skincare routine.
It slowly starts to click in my mind why his hands had big black Xs on them that night at Galactic. It was a marking to keep the bartenders from serving him. I could have sworn I tasted the burn of alcohol on his tongue but maybe it was only from the wings.
"Yeah, he's only a few years younger than Dee and she's a few years younger than me." He says with a chuckle, laughing at the shocked look across my face.
Shit, he's practically still in the cradle. Does it make me a cougar because I can't stop thinking of him naked?
This is worse than I thought.
It's close to midnight when I come storming into the apartment. I feel bad for whoever lives below us because the last week since Ashton moved in, I have been doing more stomping around than ever before. The sight of the curtains pulled shut, the light over the oven on and the countertop void of dishes doesn't even lighten my mood.
How did I not know that Ashton was a teenager? No wonder he doesn't know how to pick up after himself.
I make my way down the hallway to his room, not giving a shit that he may be sleeping. The door is cracked open, the glow of the full moon in the sky lighting the room from the inside out. As I push the door open further, the beam spreads onto the hallway floor. Ashton is splayed out in the middle of his mattress, his chest on full display and the sheet barely coming up over his groin. I can't help but wonder if he is naked underneath that thin layer of woven cotton.
Towering over him like this makes me feel powerful, in control. I take a deep breath hoping I can ease some of the pent up energy in me that pushed me to storm in here, dueled by sexual tension that is thicker than a piece of cheesecake after Christmas dinner.
His mattress is sitting on the floor like this is some kind of bachelor dorm room. My foot pushes against his in an effort to wake him. All I get is a groan and he nuzzles his head into the pillow. I do it again, this time with more force, adding his name to see if that will get his attention.
Nothing.
I move back to the doorway, about to leave, when I hear him. "Melanie? What the fuck time is it?" His voice is somehow deeper than normal, raspy from sleep.
I whip around to face him, the plan to let it go for the night now demolished. His body is propped on his elbows and his eyes are hanging half open, half asleep. "It's morning ... you didn't think you should have told me your age? Nineteen, Ashton? Are you kidding me? You're practically a kid, what the hell!"
My mind darts to the night we met, how his hands were marked as they roamed over my body. How much I didn't care, or even consider, what the marks might have meant.
"Who cares how old I am? I'm over eighteen, why does it matter? I'm an adult."
"It fucking matters! Oh my God, I almost slept with you!"
Ashton is up and off his mattress in an instant. I am thankful he is wearing pants, though they are the same grey sweatpants from the other night and they are hanging so low on his hips that I worry he might walk right out of them as he storms toward me. His hand plants on the doorframe above my head, his eyes fully awake now and boring into my soul like waves of the sea wearing down the beach. My heart is pounding so hard in my chest that I start counting the beats, tracking my pulse to make sure I don't combust.
One, two, three ...
He reaches out his free hand, cupping my pussy through my scrubs and I almost fall over at the feel of being touched. Traitorous vagina, we are fighting with him right now, calm down.
