Page 40 of Stick Handled

The edge of my mouth curls into a smirk as I pour myself a glass, my gaze locked on her. She’s still clutching on her little towel, her eyes scanning her side of the glass, barely concealed by the glow of her bedside lamp. Part of her knows better than to wait, but she doesn’t move.

Perfect.

I type out a message, each word a hook I’m dragging her with, watching her read it in real time.

ME: Looking for someone?

I press send and watch, the screen illuminating her face as she reads. Her lips part, and her eyes snap back up, scanning my windows.

A small chuckle escapes me. She can’t see me from here. But I sure as hell can see her. She types with one hand, the other still wrapped around the towel.

AVERY:How much did you see?

I take a sip of my whiskey and reply with the utmost honesty.

ME:Not enough for my liking

She reads it almost immediately, and I can see the blush rising in her cheeks from here. She doesn’t reply right away, which only makes me lean in closer, fingers tapping slowly on the glass.

I rake a hand through my hair and walk over to the window, unable to stop the grin from stretching over my face as she sees me. Her eyebrows hitch just a fraction, and she looks ready to run. I type out another quick message and hit send.

ME:Do you like watching me as much as I like watching you?

She looks down at her phone, eyes widening slightly as she reads. Her response comes faster this time, and I can already imagine the tremor in her fingers as she types.

Avery:I’m not watching you

I let out a low, humorless laugh, running my tongue over my teeth as I type back.

Me:Such a little liar

She reads it, a flush creeping up her neck, and she glances at the blinds, clearly torn between pulling them shut or leaving herself there, exposed. Every second she stands there fuels the fire in me, her hesitation sharpening my need to push her, to drag her deeper into this until there’s nowhere left to hide.

Avery:You’re the one watching me like a creep

Ah, there it is. That little flash of defiance, a spark of something brave. I feel the thrill of it, dark and consuming, as I stare her down through the glass, not even trying to soften the intensity in my gaze.

Me:How can I resist when the view is so tempting?

Her mouth parts, and for a moment, she just stares at the phone, completely still. A long silence stretches between us. I don’t break eye contact, my stare unwavering, unyielding, and I can almost see her pulse quicken from here. She clutches the towel closer like it’ll somehow protect her from me, her grip tight around the edges.

Avery:You’re insane

Me:And you’re still standing there. With your blinds open. On full display for me.

Her jaw tightens. She still doesn’t move, and something tells me she doesn’t want to. A part of her craves this as much as I do; she just won’t admit it yet.

Me:You like this, don’t you? The idea of me watching.

She bites her lip, fingers hovering over the keys before typing back.

Avery:How long have you been standing there?

My smirk widens, something sharp and dangerous curling through me.

Me:Not long enough for you to stop hiding behind the towel

She swallows hard, hands trembling, her gaze flicking from her phone to me and back again. I’m taking my time with the whiskey, letting her feel the weight of my eyes on her, savoring every second of her hesitation. She holds onto that towel like it’s her last lifeline, knuckles going white against the fabric.

---