Page 56

Kota

I wasn’t entirely sure what the purpose was for why women had to have periods.

As a biology student, I’d studied the human body down to every individual cell, so sure, I understood the real scientific reasonings, but bleeding for nearly a week seemed a bit excessive and unnecessary. My opinion? One to two days would have sufficed.

I wasn’t even there yet this month and I was already dreading it. I was, however, already moody as hell and guilty of eating everything in the kitchen. I even broke my own rule yesterday and ate someone else’s snacks. Pretty sure the chips were Lane’s, but oh well.

Sorry, Lane. When the cravings called, there’s no turning back.

Speaking of which, if I didn’t get some sort of sweet food in my mouth within five minutes, I’d kill the first person in sight.

Unless it was Bridget. Then I’d kill the second person in sight.

Sitting at my desk, I was surrounded in drawings of flowers, panda bears, and Rob K. I’d been drawing a lot recently, using it as a new stress reliever and a way to relax my mind when I needed a break from school. I wouldn’t say I was good at it, but oh well.

Abandoning my current work-in-progress of a drawing of a mountain, I speed-walked into the kitchen, on the hunt for something sweet to eat.

I shuffled past Crew, who sat on a stool, shoulders shaking through laughter as he scrolled through TikTok.

Normally, I would’ve made a comment about how his muscle tee made him look like a douche or I would’ve wrapped my small hands as far around his exposed, bulging biceps as they could go before showering him with an array of heated kisses. But I was currently on a mission— no time for funny business.

The first place I checked was the fridge, which unfortunately, contained nothing I was interested in. Nothing in the pantry enticed me either. The freezer though, was promising.

There was a tub of vanilla ice cream that was practically screaming my name.

When a box of waffle cones and an ice cream scooper accompanied the tub on the counter, I felt like I could breathe.

A deep, husky laugh rattled from behind me, reminding me that I wasn’t alone. I glanced over my shoulder, catching a view of the swirling rainbow in Crew’s bowl.

Fruity pebbles? At seven pm?

“What’s up with you always having some sort of breakfast food?” I thought aloud.

“What do you mean?” he mumbled. “I don’t.”

“Bagels, eggs, toast,” I named a few. “You’re eating cereal right now. And you picked a breakfast place for us to go to that one time.”

Only giving him a view of my back, I was left with having to imagine what his facial expression looked like right now.

He was either giving a full grimace or a cheeky grin if I had to guess.

That was one of the many strange things that had been slowly changing in the apartment.

It wasn’t all dynamite and ill-behaved games whenever we’d see each other anymore. When we first started hooking up, we’d usually still groan at the sight of each other if we found ourselves in the same room, then eventually, the encounter would end with us naked.

Now, those groans were becoming less and less frequent, replaced with small smiles and mellow heart eyes. This was all just the plot twist of the century, I guess.

“Are you judging my choice of food?” he griped.

Definitely grimacing. Which only made me smile.

“I’m just saying, it’s clear what your favorite meal of the day is.”

Heat crept up behind me, driving my senses wild. Stealing a whiff of that sandalwood cologne I’d grown to love, I brought my ice cream cone to my mouth, waiting for Crew’s next move.

“And what are you having?” he hummed, pushing himself against my ass. “Ooh, an ice cream cone.”

I hid my smirk behind the cone. “Mhm.”

“Gimme a lick.”

“No!” I refused. “There’s stuff right there. You can make your own.”

“Nooooo,” he dragged out. “I don’t want a full one. I just want a lick.”

I allowed myself to melt slightly into him, my back meeting his chest. “I don’t want your germs all over my ice cream cone,” I teased.

Crew’s fiery touch burned my lovely skin as his fingertips trailed back and forth along my arms. But his tender caresses didn’t match his brusque tone. “Oh,” he said, “so it’s alright if my germs get all over your pussy but not on your ice cream cone?”

I nearly choked.

Sighing, I turned, holding my cone up to Crew’s mouth.

He planted his hands on my hips and gave it a quick lick. “Pretty good,” he nodded. “Gimme another one.”

My eyes rolled, and this time, when I held the cone up, I waited until he got close before ramming it into the corner of his mouth.

Crew stumbled back a few steps as if I’d shot him, palm wiping his face. “Okay,” he grinned, full of sin. “I see how it is.”

Before I could blink, his hand was encased around my wrist, using my own weapon against me to smash the cone into my chin.

A single drop of ice cream dripped off my face and onto the floor, and I stood there dumbfounded for a moment. “You should know better. Than to mess. With my snacks,” I heaved.

Crew put his arms up in front of him to surrender, chuckling. “Alright. We’re even.”

But the “ceasefire” went right over my head, and the second he turned, thinking he was safe, my ice cream was no longer on the cone— it was a mushy, melting mess sitting in a ball in my hand.

I launched it across the room, striking Crew square in the back, causing him to jump from the cold impact. Realizing what I’d done, I sank back a little.

Crew’s scoff echoed, bouncing around the kitchen. “Did you just cannonball your ice cream at me?”

My teeth gnawed at my bottom lip, eyes flitting around like an anxious child. Unfortunately, there was no reversal after throwing gasoline onto a flame.

If this were months ago, I’d probably flaunt a wicked smile, nodding my head with content as I proudly said, “Hell yeah, I did.”

But Crew had been slowly thawing my heart of ice, little by little, and instead of standing confidently with a crown on my head, my chin dropped slightly, and I responded with a sheepish, “No.”

“No? What’s that then?” he pointed at the floor.

There was a small puddle of ice cream, slowly getting fed by the melting ball I’d launched.

“It... fell.”

“It just,” he shrugged, “jumped five feet off its cone?”

I held the empty cone tightly with both hands against my belly. “Yes.”

Hand resting on his lower hip, he nodded at me. “Alright then.”

I breathed a sigh of relief when he turned with no further response.

The relief didn’t last long though, my reaction time being too short to dodge the rainbow hurdling my way.

Cold and colored milk drenched me, and I shrieked. “Crew!” I held my head down, watching rainbow droplets of milk fall one by one from the ends of my hair.

“I’m sorry,” Crew laughed, bent over. He held a hand up. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

My jaw became taut as a growl rippled from my throat. “I’m going to kill you!” I hollered, reaching for the tub of ice cream.

“No, no, no.” Crew’s strong arms scooped me up, tossing me over his shoulder. “No more,” he said.

As I took in the view of his tight ass from upside down, I let out another yelp. “Where are we going!”

“The shower.”

“I don’t wanna shower with you. I’m mad at you.”

“C’mon now. We both know you started this,” he said, setting me down on my feet in the boy’s bathroom.

“Did not,” I pouted quietly, crossing my arms.

The pipes cried out, screeching steadily as he flipped the shower valve on. “Did too.”

“Whatever.”

Like the other day, the rough pads of his fingertips found their way under my chin, and he lifted it, leaving me with no choice but to look at his beautifully crooked grin. “Stubborn and dramatic.”

“Stubborn, maybe, but I am not dramatic.”

The truth was that I knew I was dramatic, but I was far too stubborn to admit it.

Quicker than I could blink, Crew had a thumb hooked between my blue pajama bottoms and my skin, his eyes lit, voice coming out as rough as sandpaper. “I beg to differ.”

The only sounds in the bathroom were my heavy breaths and the water rushing as Crew undressed me, sliding each article of clothing off my body before doing the same with his own and tossing it all into a pile on the floor.

He cocked a brow, motioning towards the shower. “After you.”

We’d been naked dozens of times together, but there was something nerve wracking about showering together. I’d never showered with someone that I was just hooking up with; it had always been with guys I was actually seeing.

In my opinion, showers were intimate. Water. Soap. Naked bodies. Not to mention, there was light; it wasn’t the same as hooking up in a semi-dark room. You could see everything.

I let out a huff as I stepped past him and into the steam. The hot water hit my chest, and I didn’t realize how sticky my hands were until I raised them into the stream, watching the light-yellow residue of ice cream wash off my skin.

Right as Crew walked in, his hands were squeezing my hips and just as I thought he was about to pull my ass against him, he surprised me by leaving the lightest trace of a kiss on my shoulder.

I turned my head slightly, peeking over at him. It almost felt like the water was somehow pounding harder, matching my heartbeat as I took in his subtle grin, but I knew the sensation was all in my head.

“Sorry about your hair,” he said unapologetically.

“It’s fine,” I murmured, shifting so that my back was towards the water. Tilting my head, I got my hair wet, hoping the cereal and milk were slowly washing out.

“C’mere,” Crew insisted quietly, grabbing my hand to spin me back around.

“Why? What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna wash your hair.”

Hearing the snap of a bottle opening, my eyes widened, and I swung around to look. “With your boy shampoo? Yeah, I don’t think so.”

His eyes rolled. “Well, this is the only option currently available.”

My shoulders sank. “I don’t wanna smell like a guy!”

His sigh was far louder than the water shooting past my ears. “You want me to go run and grab your shampoo?”

I pulled my mouth over to one side, hiding a smile. “Was that just a question or an actual offer?”

He ran a hand through his damp hair. “An actual offer, I guess.”

Now, I was the one sighing. “It’s fine. I’ll just use water.”

“No, it’s alright. I’ll be right back.” With a kiss on my cheek, he hopped out, leaving me with another nagging round of butterflies inside me. This shit was getting annoying.

There were a few guys throughout my life that had given me intense butterflies before— including Bobby— but it was never like this. I usually just got butterflies if a guy complimented me or maybe as he was leaning in for our first kiss. It had never been this frequent, had never been from the smallest occurrences, like from barely touching me or from simply looking at me.

When Crew came back in, I peeked down at the Bumble and Bumble bottle in his hands. “Congrats,” I teased. “You grabbed the right one.”

He didn’t bother looking up at me as he shrugged, too focused on the shampoo he was currently pouring into his hand. “I wasn’t totally sure at first which one was yours, but I figured it out.”

“You figured it out?” I asked.

Another shrug. “I know what you smell like,” Crew said.

More butterflies. God fucking dammit.

“Switch spots with me,” he muttered.

Blowing a heavy breath out my nose, I did what was asked of me, turning so that my back was facing both Crew and the water. I tipped my head backwards, and Crew’s hands practically took up my whole head as he massaged the shampoo into my hair, slow and fragile.

The only sound was the pitter patter of the water as it hit the tile around us, and I closed my eyes, relaxing to the princess treatment I was getting.

There was an overwhelming feeling of wanting to ask Crew what the hell was going on between us. I wasn’t sure if it was my fear of his response or my fear of ruining the moment that kept me from doing it.

Crew worked carefully and meticulously rinsing the shampoo out of my hair, using one hand to shield my forehead to ensure none of it got in my eyes.

“I think it’s all out,” he murmured, voice nearly getting drowned out by the water.

“There are no fruity pebbles left?”

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

“Okay,” I said, watching him shut the water off.

Honestly, right when he’d mentioned showering, I’d been expecting some sort of sexual shenanigans to happen. I guess it had just become an assumption now, granted that’s what usually happened whenever we were alone.

Peeking out the shower curtain, I eyed the two towels hung on the towel rack. There was a gray towel that was perfectly folded, taking up half the space, while the black one was hung in some unorganized knot.

“I’m assuming yours is the black one?” I taunted, stepping onto the shower mat on the floor.

“Yeah, you can use it if you want.”

“Um, no thanks.” Grabbing Lane’s, which I assumed was clean, I wrapped it around me. Crew gave me a dirty side eye before ripping his own towel off the rack. I slyly watched as his dick disappeared when he closed it around his waist before my eyes landed on myself in the mirror, and a flash of disgust overtook my face at the sight of my reflection.

There was conviction in Crew’s voice, almost sounding like a threat. “Don’t look at yourself like that.” I eyed him in the mirror quietly. “As if you don’t like how you look,” he explained further.

My heart raced, hands finding the edge of the countertop and planting themselves there, gripping onto it as I rocked unsteadily. “Sometimes, I don’t,” I admitted.

Crew stood there, hair damp and head tipped to expose his cutting jawline. His sharp abs were on full display, towel hung low and eyes angry at my words. And of course, he looked like a breathing wet dream while he did it.

Whereas I was ice, he was stone. And although he’d been slowly thawing me over the last few weeks, unfortunately for me, stone doesn’t melt.

He gave me maddening butterflies, but for all I knew, I didn’t make him feel a single thing.

“That’s ridiculous,” he finally said, voice gruff. With a tiny step, he came forward. “You’re gorgeous and you know it.”

My knuckles were white at this point, and I gulped. “You think I’m gorgeous?”

He laughed once like I was crazy. “Of course, I do.”

There was a pulsing electricity flying through the air. I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he blinked at me, looking like a masterpiece, my dream drug come to life.

Gradually, his mouth raised into a smile. “You’re blushing again.”

My sigh came out rough and heavy. “I told you I don’t blush.”

It was taking a conscious effort not to swing around and slam my lips against his. But as each millisecond passed, I was closer and closer to doing it. I probably would’ve had I not heard the apartment door open and close, followed by Bridget and Lane’s laughter, which came to a sudden halt.

“Watch out,” Lane said. “There’s stuff all over the floor.”

“What the hell?” Bridget let out.

Meanwhile, Crew’s and my eyes were so wide that it looked like we were on drugs. We stared at each other in the mirror silently, both holding our breath as if we’d get caught if we breathed.

Finally, I spoke, swiveling around and yelling in a whisper, “What do we do!”

Crew’s gaze zipped around as his hand securely gripped my waist, trying to calm me. I wished for a moment that there wasn’t a towel between us. “I’m gonna sneak into my room,” he spoke softly. “You showered in here after the food fight.”

I nodded, watching him peek down the hall before disappearing into it.

I jumped when my phone rang against the countertop, sending the sound echoing around the bathroom. “Hello?”

“Hey, uh, what happened in the kitchen? It looks like a fucking war zone in here,” Bridget said.

Nibbling on my lower lip, I focused on keeping my voice steady. “Yeah. Crew and I had a food fight.”

“A food fight? Why?”

“He pissed me off,” I paused, “duh.”

“Of course,” she murmured. “Where are you now?”

“The bathroom.”

Silence. Followed by voices muttering throughout the apartment.

“Our bathroom is empty,” Bridget suddenly said.

“Yeah, I’m... I showered in the boy’s bathroom.”

“Why?”

I spit out, “I had food all over me and I didn’t wanna make our bathroom a mess.”

I gave myself a mental pat on the back for the lie. Believable? Yeah, I’d say so. Sounded like something I’d do? Definitely.

“Oh!” Bridget agreed. “Good thinking.”

“Yeah,” I nodded to myself. “I’ll be out soon to clean up the kitchen.”

“Kay,” she said before hanging up.

Ten minutes later, Crew and I were scrubbing the kitchen floor, not speaking, not acknowledging each other outside of an occasional glance.

But I could tell by the way his hand subtly brushed over mine when our roommates weren’t looking, and I was sure he could tell by the look in my eyes, that pretending we still hated each other was becoming more of a challenge.