Page 11 of Amour Fou
“The fucking loss of a well-paid job, asshole!”
“Y’know,”—I narrow my eyes, wagging my finger in his face—“I’m getting a little tired of all this negativity.”
He groans at me. “There’s clearly no talking to you.” He stands from the bed and makes his way to my bedroom door. “Fucking the staff is a no-go. So, grow up and deal with it.” And with that, he yanks open the door and leaves, slamming it behind him.
“Stop slamming doors, asshole!” I call.
Walking into the bathroom, I turn the shower on and jump in, letting the ice-cold water cascade over my body, washing away the work and stress from today. The only thing creeping into my mind is the thought of the red-haired beauty sleeping in the West Wing.
It’s been a week since the pool house.
A week since I’ve looked at her.
And a week since I allowed thoughts of her to invade my brain.
I’ve actively done my best to keep myself away from the woman I can’t get off my mind, and it’s driving me fucking insane.
Readjusting myself in the chair, and situated at the kitchen table, I turn the page of the book I’m reading and take a sip of bourbon. I’ve tried everything I can to keep her off my mind, and to stop myself walking up to her room and fucking her over the edge of her bed.
The padding of feet down the hallway catches my attention. Looking up at the clock, I realise it’s later than I expected. Two a.m to be exact, and the funny thing is, I can smell that it’s her, the citrus shower gel she uses daily filtering into the kitchen and hitting my senses and the moment she walks into the kitchen, she yelps.
“Fucking hell!” Clasping her chest, she takes a step back.
“I hope they do,” I respond.
“Huh?”
“Fuck. In. Hell… I hope they do.”
“Har, har… funny. What is it with you and Xaden skulking in the shadows.”
“I’m not skulking, I’m reading.” Resting my finger on my current page, I close the book, looking at her from head to toe. The white, oversized t-shirt she’swearing sits at the middle of her thighs. Doing absolutely nothing to cover her body.
“In the dark?” Her delicate voice helps to tear my eyes away from soft looking skin. “What are you, some kind of vampire?”
“No, I ate a lot of carrots as a kid.” I wink.
Tilting her head to the side, she raises an eyebrow at me, staring for a few seconds before rolling her eyes. “You’re quite the joker, huh?”
I watch her walk over to the fridge, opening it up and pulling out a fresh carton of milk, and I can’t take my eyes off of her because the moment she reaches up to the top cupboard, the hem of the t-shirt rises to the middle of that glorious peachy ass of hers.
Her fingers graze the box, not being able to grip onto it properly due to how short she is. I watch her try a few more times, smiling and rolling my eyes at her struggle before she turns around to look at me. Placing her hands on her hips she stares at me.
“Are you going to sit there and watch? Or are you going help me?”
Removing my finger from the middle of the book, I fold the corner over and place it on the counter, getting up from the chair and making my way over to her. She doesn’t move from her spot, so I reach over, paying close attention to how close our bodies are.
Reaching above her head, I grab the box of cereal and bring it down to her level. “There.”
“Thank you.”
Opening the cupboard next to it, I grab a bowl out too, placing it on the counter next to her.
“So, is there a reason you’re so uptight?” she asks playfully.
“I’m not uptight.” Looking down at her, I focus on the single strand of hair coasting the side of her face and realise how desperate I am to move it behind her ear.
“This is the closest you’ve been to me since the pool house. Do I smell?”
