Page 13 of One Bed

OK, then. They were doing this.

Her eyes didn’t leave her book, though he doubted she was doing any reading. She was ignoring him, and that didn’t bother him at all. Whistling, he reached back to pull his shirt over his head and tossed it toward the chair in the corner. He missed and it fell to the floor. Oh,dear.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her watching him. She frowned and started to speak, before biting her lip to keep her words from escaping.

She so wanted to tell him to pick it up, to hang it up. Smiling, he turned his back to her and undid the belt to his chinos shorts and unzipped, stepping out of his flip flops and kicking the shorts in the direction of his shirt. He heard her gasp, and her low rumble of annoyance. Oh, she had no idea what was coming next…

Still whistling, he walked into the bathroom in his briefs and flipped on the taps to the shower. Deliberately leaving the door open, not enough for her to see him, but enough for any sounds to carry, he shucked his underwear and stepped into the glass cubicle.

She didn’t ask him to close the door.

The water slid over his head and down his back. He pushed his hair back and looked at the range of toiletries she’d placed on the shelf. He picked up a bottle of shower gel, lifted it to his nose – nice – and squirted some into his hand. He scrubbed his face with it, before rinsing off.

Enjoying the unisex scent, he washed the rest of his body before reaching for his bottle of generic, much less interesting shampoo. He quickly washed his hair, rinsed off and shut off the taps. He saw her towel hanging on the rail and wrinkled his nose.

‘Hey, Bea, where can I find a towel? Can you toss me one?’ Her silence was an unspoken ‘no’ and not unexpected. Shrugging, he reached for her still damp towel and rubbed his wet head. He pulled it down his chest, between his legs, and up his back before wrapping it around his hips. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll just use yours.’

Still no reply. She was tougher than he thought.

After brushing his teeth, he pushed his hair off his forehead and hung the towel up on the rail to dry. Grinning, he walked back into the room, as naked as the day he was born.

As he expected, Bea slapped her hand over her eyes and released an anguished wail. ‘For God’s sake, put something on!’ she shouted.

The one good thing about being brought up in a house where nudity –mental and physical – had been encouraged was that he now had no compunction about walking around in the buff. Compared to his mom’s mental mind-probes, being physically naked wasn’t that big of a deal. He pulled back the light cotton throw covering the bed, then the sheet, and climbed into bed. ‘I sleep naked,’ he informed her, turning his head to look at her.

She was an interesting colour, hot pink in places, scarlet in others. One hand still covered her eyes.

‘You can look now,’ he told her, amused.

She lowered her hand and fixed him with a cold, hard stare. ‘You arenotsleeping naked,’ she informed him. ‘Put on some shorts. And a T-shirt.’

He bent his knees and folded his arms, looking at her across the shoulder-high wall of pillows. ‘Not happening,’ he told her. ‘But feel free to leave and sleep somewhere else if you don’t like it.’

She growled, actually growled. Unfortunately for her, she sounded like a puppy and wouldn’t intimidate a grasshopper. He grinned.

‘You also left your clothes on the floor and the bathroom and bedroom door open,’ she said, her voice colder than a Siberian witch’s tit in the dead of winter. ‘And, you bastard, you used my very expensive Creed shower gel! Golly bought it for me last Christmas! Judging by how amazing the room smells, you used half the bottle.’

Maybe a third. And she was right, the smells wafting in from the bathroom were incredible. If he remembered, and he probably wouldn’t, he should take a photo of the stuff and order the same brand when he got home.

‘Donotmess with my stuff,’ she told him, her posh English accent becoming more pronounced as her irritation levels rose. ‘And. Pick. Up. Your. Clothes. I won’t be able to go to sleep knowing they’re just lying there.’

Normally he would, he wasn’t a slob, but annoying her was fun, and a means to an end. If he did it well, and he did everything well, she’d leave and give him the solitude he craved.

‘If it bothers you, please feel free to do something about it.’ He slid down the bed, bunched his pillow beneath his head, and she disappeared from view. He yawned, surprised by his exhaustion given it wasn’t even eleven yet. Normally he’d still be at his desk, blowing through reports or spreadsheets.

He wasn’t used to sharing his space, and he thought he’d be more keyed up, more annoyed than he was. All he felt was tired. Mentally and physically drained.

‘Get up and pick up your stuff! And close the damn doors!’

Not a chance. This bed was incredibly comfortable, and he was struggling to keep his eyes open. Hell, even if she got naked and asked him to do her, he might choose sleep over sex. Might being the operative word.

‘Not happening. Besides, if I do, I’ll still be naked and you’ll get another eyeful,’ he replied, around a long yawn.

He heard the sound of covers rustling and lifted his head just high enough to see her sliding out of bed. She stomped her way around the bed, it was ridiculously big, and he eyed her long legs peeking out from short tartan sleeping shorts. He took in her round ass as she bent over to pick up his shirt and shorts, stomping into the bathroom to dump them in the laundry basket.

Neat freak. That hadn’t changed. She slammed the bathroom door closed, then the bedroom door, her body stiff with annoyance. He felt the bed move as she climbed back under the covers, heard her adorable huff of irritation and with one last yawn, slid into sleep.

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