So, What Pick-Up Line Actually Works On You?

Chapter Fifteen - Ten, Do You Wash Your Panties With Windex?

Chapter Fifteen –  "And those feelings confuse you so you over re-act by ignoring me, running away and punching my beautiful nose and staining carpets with my blood.”

or

Ten, Do you wash your panties with Windex because I can really see myself in them

The moment I woke up, all that hit me was how stiff I was and that I had a crick in my neck that would not go away for a week. I sleepily closed my eyes, wanting to fall back into my slumber, no matter how much pain I was in at the moment. Sleep was good.

But I was in a bed, but it wasn’t my bed. My bed smelt like tropical fruits and sleep and my shampoo. This bed smelled like cat, boy and some weird musky scent that I recognized but couldn’t place.

Oh shit.

I opened my eyes hurriedly, wanting to know where the hell I was now. All I remembered was the floor and Miranda and Tyson with their camera and Rhys drooling on my top. Good times, good times. I glanced to my right, and there before me was the most magnificent chest I’ve ever laid eyes on.

And of course, it had to be Rhys’s.

Why does he have such a wonderful chest? Why can’t he be scrawny, or chubby? And why is he shirtless in the first place? Man, he’s weird. I couldn’t sleep without clothes on, I always got too cold. Damn Rhys and his ability to sleep half naked that was always something I had wanted to do. Damn the way I’m always cold.

“I know I’m pretty darn amazing looking and all that, but please Annie, don’t stare at my chest like that.” Rhys’s sleep filled, husky voice greeted me, and I brought my eyes up to meet his. I had been staring idly at his chest while I had been thinking about wishing I could sleep without pyjamas. Smooth, Annie, smooth.

“Psh, dream on. I wasn’t looking at you. I was looking at your interesting duvet cover. It’s so enthralling.” I butted in, eyeing his bedspread which was a collage of guitars all mashed up.

“Hey, hey, hey! I never said I minded you staring! It’s quite erotic to be honest. You’re very lucky I don’t just decide to keep you in here all day and walk around shirtless and let you oogle. Imagine how steamy that would get!” Rhys chuckled, the glazed look in his eyes telling me he was playing the scene out in his mind.

“You’re insufferable. And stop teasing me; at least I didn’t get a boner from a hug.” I bit back, pushing myself out of his bed with a small groan as my bones complained at the movement. My feet were chilled by the wood floor instantly and I shivered and rubbed my bare arms together. Wait, my bare arms? I always had my arms covered at night. Bingo, guess who was wearing a guy’s shirt that barely covered themselves?

No, not Rhys. Remember, he’s shirtless?

Yup, me.

And Rhys wonders why he doesn’t get laid? Well, it’s simple; he’s so fucking rude and a pervert.  Who changes a girl that’s nothing to them and then dumps them in their own bed? I shot Rhys a dirty look before heading for the door. I’d rather sleep on the sofa then lie there and listen to him.

“Anabelle! Let me explain, okay? I woke up at like three in the morning on the sofa still squishing you of course, and you were so tired and peaceful looking so I left you sleep and just brought you up here without thinking and I was hardly going to let you sleep in your jeans, a huge jumper and four shirts, was I? Imagine how sore that’d be! So I dragged Miranda from her bed and made her change you, I didn’t see a thing! Honest sauce!” Rhys explained, running to stand between me and the door.

“Dude, you do realize you’re grovelling in your undies, right?” Miranda giggled from behind us in the hallway, and I craned my neck to see her standing there in a towel and her hair dripping wet. Rhys grinned at her suggestively, and shrugged as if deciding that now wasn’t the best time to be sniggering at him begging in underwear.