Being Bad

Chapter 72: Things End Badly

"Is that my shirt?" He pointed at the cloth covering my arms, chest, and just a bit of my thighs.

"Yeah." I replied sheepishly, tugging at the hem so it would go lower. His stare isn't helping the situation.

"When did you grab it?"

"You left it in the bathroom, and I grabbed it while you were sleeping in the bed and I was brushing my teeth. I can take it off if you would like."

"No!" He said instantly. "You can always wear my clothes."

"Good. Cause it smells like you." I told him, inhaling the Old Spice deodorant smell of his shirt.

"What do I smell like?"

"Like a man." I put my knee in between the gap of his thighs, putting my hands on his cheeks. He puts his around my legs, trying to hike up my shirt to feel what's underneath.

"Don't." I smacked his arm. "I'm not wearing anything except for underwear."

"That doesn't bother me." He said, and I pulled away.

"I'm gonna go take a shower." I told him again.

Something just feels off with him. He's usually more sarcastic and flirtatious. Sure, he was flirtatious right now but there was a thought at the back of my mind that if I didn't stop us, we would've gone farther than both of us would've liked.

He's hurting, and I'm not ready. We both would be taking advantage of a bad situation.

I locked myself in the bathroom, turning the shower on and waiting for it to reach the perfect temperature. When it was, I stepped in and felt the burning droplets trickle down my skin.

I wasn't just taking a shower to get clean, I was taking a shower to wipe away the pain and heartbreak this weekend brought.

When I had reached the end of my shower, I peered over to the bathroom counter and realized I forgot to bring my clothes in with me.

I unlocked the door, and walked toward my suitcase, which was on a lone chair on the other side of the room.

I looked for Andrew, and he was laying on the bed, his hands folded across his chest. He stared at the mirror on the ceiling.

"Hey, you okay?" I asked.

He sighed. "Nope."

Okay, maybe that was a dumb question to ask.

"If you need to talk about anything, just know I'm here. Just like last night."

He lifted his head up, and his eyes went wide when he noticed me in a towel holding clothes.

"Hello." He cat-called.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Stop trying to seduce me, Andrew. You're hurting and grieving. I don't like the idea of us making out and doing stuff while you're still upset about what happened yesterday. I know you, Andrew. I know that you never forget about something that quickly."

He put his head back.

"You're right. I am hurting. But I'm also trying to be okay for you. Me shutting you out drove us apart and I didn't want to do that again. So, you can kiss me and we can make-out, it's fine. Don't think that you're taking advantage of me. Are you nervous?"

"What? No! Why would I be nervous?" I shook my head in confusion.

"Because you think that maybe when we kiss it could turn into something more, and you're not sure if you can control yourself."