Page 27 of F*cking Shattered

He reads my expression. “It’s only one night. It can’t be that bad.”

“Do you live in a barn or something? This room is horrible.” I sit down in the chair in the corner.

I look around at the flattened brown carpet that is covered in stains. My eyes drift up to the old TV with bunny ears in front of the green, quilt covered bed. There are small wall lights that hang on either side of the bed, and two ratty old night stands.

“No, I live in the city, in a studio apartment.”

“You really don’t think this room is that bad?”

He purses his lips together and shakes his head. “Na, what’s so bad about it? It has a bed to sleep in, a TV to watch, and a bathroom.”

Oh, God. The bathroom. I didn’t even think of that. I jump up and walk around the bed to the bathroom door. With a surge of bravery, I push the door open and flip the switch. A bright light fills the small space as my eyes adjust.

It’s just as outdated as the rest of the room, but at least it’s clean. The tiled walls are multiple shades of brown, and the handles on the old pedestal sink are rusted, but I don’t see any used condoms or body hair attacking every surface. I let out a sigh of relief as I walk back into the room.

I stand at River’s side. “Stand up.”

He looks up at me with confusion written on his face. “Why?” he asks, but stands anyway.

I reach down and pull back the quilt, examining the sheets for any stains. No way can I sleep on someone else’s bodily fluids. The sheets are crisp and white, free of any marks or holes.

“Do you feel better now?” he asks. I can hear the smirk I know is on his face.

I turn to look at him. “You may sit back down now.”

He flops back onto the bed while I grab my bag and rifle through it. I grab some fresh clothes and spin around. “I’m taking a shower.”

I turn on the shower and step under the stream of hot water. My back is sore from sitting in the car all day, and the heat of the water helps to soothe it. I rub my neck, trying to work out the knots.

Once I’m convinced the knots in my muscles are just a permanent part of me now, I use the shampoo provided and lather up my hair.

I’m just about to step out when I feel a cool gust of wind blow behind me. I twist around to see River.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I try hiding all my girlie bits.

His eyes go wide with alarm. “What? I need a shower too.”

I push against his chest as I step out and wrap a towel around me. “We,” I motion between us, “are not a couple!” I hold my towel tight around me. “Couples take showers together. We just…” I hold my hand up at my side and let it fall, it slaps off my thigh. “We just have sex on occasion and annoy one another.”

He holds the shower curtain open, not ashamed of the full frontal view he’s giving me as he grins, fucking grins. He shrugs one shoulder. “I thought this could be one of those occasions you speak of.”

I practically growl as I grab my clothes and leave the bathroom. Stepping into the other room, I dress quickly and rake a brush through my dark hair, seething. How dare he even think he can get in the shower with me? In what world is it okay to just jump in the shower with someone when you’re not invited?

Maybe I’m giving him mixed signals. But I don’t mean to. Yes, I kissed him first, and yes, I guess I was the one to initiate sex, but that was supposed to be a random, one-time thing. Then, when he showed up and I kissed that guy in the bar, I was so high off my excitement and our kiss on the street corner, I threw caution to the wind. I never should have slept with him a second time. But my body wants him more than anything. I couldn’t help the jealously when it came to that waitress. God, what is wrong with me? I cannot be falling for this guy.

I should keep my distance. I won’t allow myself to think of his rock hard body, the way he can manipulate mine, or the earth shattering orgasms I’ve had at his hands. From now on, he’s just a friend. A friend I’m not attracted to at all. That’s all it is anyway: attraction. I’m not in love with him. He drives me completely fucking crazy.

I slide into bed and watch the black and white movie playing on the TV, but I’m not really watching it. I’m thinking about what I have gotten myself into.

Remembering to text my mom, I type out a quick message, telling her where I am and that I’m safe for the night before turning my phone off and dropping it onto the table. I settle back into bed.

The bathroom door suddenly opens and he walks into the room in his white boxer briefs. His strong chest is still slightly damp and it glistens with the soft glow of the room. As he passes in front of the TV, his whole body is fully visible, and my eyes skim down his six pack to that V that points right to his dick. I have no idea what that part of the body is called, but fuck my life, it does things to me it shouldn’t.

Feeling extra irritated with myself, I roll my eyes as he walks closer to me. He struts his shit like a damn runway model, demanding my attention. He slides into bed next to me and the smell of his body-wash and shampoo sends a tingling fire from my stomach to directly between my legs.

“God, don’t you have clothes?”

He turns to give me his cocky grin. “What’s the matter, princess? Are you afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off me?”

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