I quickly strip off my dress and panties, set my phone on the small table beside the tub, and sink into the hot, steamy water. It’s warming me from the outside in. Laying back, I let out a sigh. The only thing that would make this bath better is serious bubbles. I debate running back to our apartment knowing that we have some lavender-scented bubbles, but I also don’t want to leave the warmth of my bath. My phone buzzes again and I know it’s probably Addison.
ADDS: Okay, I’ll let it be for now, but I think something happened tonight between you and Weston. Actually I don’t think, I know it did. The look on his face matched yours when he came back.
I feel my face flush thinking about what we’d done together tonight. Here I am, letting him creep into my mind again. I’m not going to respond to Addison anymore. Knowing my best friend, we’ll gal pal over the phone later because she isn’t one to let things go. For now, I’m going to bask the hell out of this hot bath I’ve made myself.
Everything about tonight seems like the weirdest freaking dream. My plan to forget it ever happened makes me think about it more. I wonder what happens now that we'd fucked each other. Will we still be in this bitter war or will things between us get easier? After about thirty minutes, my water turns cold and my skin is getting pruney. I’ve been in here long enough.
Slipping the stopper out of the tub, I watch as the water drains around me, tiny goosebumps littering my skin. Stepping out of the tub onto the soft mat, my eyes trace the bathroom to find no fresh towels.
Nothing under the sink, nothing hanging on the door. I realize that everything looks the same as it did when I left this morning. Not even the bed is made. Grabbing a hand towel from the rack behind the toilet, I dry my hair and then my body mostly.
My mind is in flight after the evening I’ve had. Not even a bath can lull my brain into a state of soulful bliss. Confusion courses through me. It was a quick fuck to fix the itch, to fix the hate. The only problem with that is there’s nothing fixed about any of it. There isn’t a band-aid big enough to put over this issue.
I no longer have a dislike for Weston, no. It’s hate. I hate that he’s done this to me. That he makes me want him. I hate that he provokes me this much. I close my eyes and those golden hazel eyes stare back at me. Shaking my head, I finish toweling off and head out to my room to get ready for bed. My phone buzzes again and I’m expecting Addison texting me again. One glance at the name and my heart sinks.What now?
COCKYPANTS: You want to talk about what happened tonight, Chief?
ME: It meant nothing, Croix. It was a hate fuck. That’s all.
COCKYPANTS: You know as well as I do that more happened in that bathroom tonight than just a quick fuck. I think I got under that icy skin of yours and felt a warmth between us.
ME: You did. It’s called sex, friction creates warmth.
COCKYPANTS: You can’t tell me you felt nothing when I kissed those lips of yours. When my hand trailed down your breasts, over your stomach, and inched its way under those soaked panties. When I touched you there. When you moaned my name.
ME: You’re so deluded. Am I the first woman you’ve ever had sex with, Croix?
COCKYPANTS: I’ve been with many, many women, but none who screamed my name so loudly or came as hard as you did.
A flush steals up my face at his perverted texts. It’s true, I’d never come that hard in my life, then again I’d only had sex once. So yeah, not that hard for him. I typed out several different things in response but decided it was better to appear unaffected. Maybe he’d get the hint. It was a weak moment for me, one I won’t repeat anytime soon. No matter how much my body begs otherwise. No matter how much I want to see more of his inked skin pressed against mine.
Iconic child fairytale tattoos? I knew my eyes didn’t deceive me the first time I saw them. It can’t happen again.
I need to change the game. Honestly, the whole detached facade will no longer suffice for my work associate. It’s like he thrives on it.
In true rich girl fashion, I’ll zip up my hate inside every time I put on a dress for work. Push down my feelings for him and pretend that he’s another person who works at The Avant Garde. He’s nothing special to me and I’d treat him like it.More lies.
My white flag of surrender will fly high. I’ll be kind and polite to him like he wants, as I am to everyone else. He’ll be Weston, instead of Croix. It should knock him off his little pedestal after only ever calling him Croix.
I only need an inch to breathe where the entire universe isn’t centered around the one man I can’t forget. Only a slight tip of his axis is all I need to get my feet firmly planted.