Maybe Not (Maybe #1.5)(9)

I walk to my bedroom and head straight for the bathroom. She’s already in there, standing at the sink, washing her face. “Again with the failure to knock?” she says with a dramatic roll of her eyes.

I ignore her and walk to the toilet. I lift the lid and unzip my pants. I try to keep my smile in check when I hear her scoff at the fact that I just started taking a piss with her in the bathroom.

“Are you serious?”

I continue to ignore her comments and flush the toilet when I’m finished. I leave the lid up on purpose and step over to the sink, right next to her. Two can play at this asshole game, Bridgette.

I grab my toothbrush and squirt toothpaste on it and then start brushing my teeth. She elbows me when I get in the way of the sink, attempting to push me aside. I elbow her right back and continue brushing. I look up at our reflection in the mirror and like what I see. I’m several inches taller than her. My hair is darker than hers, and my eyes are brown compared to her greens. We complement each other, though. Standing next to each other like this, I can see how we could make a good-looking couple. We’d probably even make some good-looking children.

Shit.

Why am I allowing thoughts like this to fester in my brain?

She finishes wiping the makeup from her face before grabbing her own toothbrush. Now we’re both fighting for sink space, brushing with more force than our teeth have probably ever been brushed. We take turns angrily spitting into the sink, throwing elbows at each other between every turn.

When I’m finished, I rinse off my toothbrush and put it back in the holder. She does the same. I cup my hands under the stream of water and bend forward to take a sip when she shoves me aside, causing me to splash water all over the counter. I wait until she has water in her own hands, then I shove her arms, watching the water splash everywhere.

She grips the counter and takes a deep, calming breath. It doesn’t help, though, because she splashes her hand through the faucet stream, sending a handful of water straight at my face.

I close my eyes and try to put myself in her shoes. Maybe she’s had a rough day. Maybe she hates her job. Maybe she hates her life.

Whatever her reason for acting the way she does doesn’t excuse the fact that she still didn’t say thank you for the ride. She’s treating me like I ruined her life, and all I’ve done is try to accommodate her.

I open my eyes and don’t even look at her. I reach over, turn the sink faucet off, and then grab the hand towel and begin drying my face. She’s watching me closely, waiting for me to retaliate. I take a slow step toward her, towering over her. She presses her back against the sink and keeps her eyes focused on mine as I lean forward.

Our chests are almost touching now. I can feel the heat radiating from her as her lips slowly part. She’s not pushing me away this time. In fact, it looks like she’s daring me to keep going. To come closer.

I place my hands on either side of her, locking her in. She still doesn’t resist and I know if I tried to kiss her right now, she wouldn’t resist that, either. Under any other circumstance, I would be kissing her right now. My tongue would be as far into that mouth as I could get it, because fuck it’s a nice mouth. I don’t know how so much venom can spew from lips as soft as hers.

“Bridgette,” I say, very calmly.

I can see the roll of her throat as she swallows, still looking up at me. “Warren,” she says, her voice a mix between resolved and desperate.

I smile at her, just inches from her face. The fact that she’s allowing me this close only proves that my theory earlier this afternoon is correct. She wants me. She wants me to touch her, to kiss her, to carry her to my bed. I wonder if she’s as mean in the bedroom as she is out of the bedroom.

I lean in another inch and she gasps quietly, trading glances between my eyes and my lips. I pull my bottom lip into my mouth, slowly sliding my teeth across it. She watches my mouth with fascination. My heart is in my throat and my palms are sweating, because I’m not sure I can do this. I’m not so sure I can resist her.

I lean in even closer, reaching around her with my right hand until I find the mouthwash on the counter. Just when our lips would meet if I were to kiss her, I pull back and step away, removing the lid from the mouthwash. I keep my eyes focused on hers and take a sip before putting the lid back on it and setting it down on the counter.

I can see the desire in her eyes become swallowed up by fury. She’s pissed at me, pissed at herself. Possibly even embarrassed. When she sees I was teasing her, the corners of her eyes crinkle with her intense glare. I step up to the sink and spit the mouthwash out, wiping my mouth with the hand towel again. I turn toward my bedroom. “Goodnight, Bridgette.”

I close the door and lean against it and squeeze my eyes shut. Her bedroom door slams shut and I blow out a steady breath. I’ve never been more turned on than I am right now. I’ve also never been more proud of myself than I am right now. Walking away from that mouth and those hungry eyes was the hardest thing I’ve had to do, but also the most important. I have to keep the upper hand, because that girl has way too much power over me, and she doesn’t even know it.

I turn out my bedroom light and walk to my bed, trying to get the image of what almost just happened out of my head. After several minutes, I give up trying to fight it. I decide to use the thoughts of her to my advantage as I slip my hand into my boxers, thinking about those orange shorts. That mouth. The small gasp of breath she took when I leaned in toward her.