Jennie
Lisa follows me into the kitchen, and we settle into an easy conversation while we clean.
"So how was your day?" I ask casually. She shoots me a look.
"Long."
Right, she's implying that it's long because of me. Well, my day wasn't any shorter, jackass. I had to work, cook and clean.
"Mine, too," I say. "But I'm sorry to hear that."
"It's fine, Jennie," she says without looking at me.
I decide upon a new tactic: innocence. Jisoo's favourite when she's trying to get something she wants or have someone see her way - well, unless that someone is me. In that case, she just puts her foot down and, with an icy glare lethal enough to freeze hell, tells me how it's going to be.
"I enjoyed seeing you today, Lisa," I tell her softly. "I've had a lot of fun."
The water fight actually was fun - albeit cold and embarrassing - but I'm not so sure she agrees.
Although she did technically initiate it. But popping her ass with a towel was loads of fun - I'd like to do that again soon. I grin despite myself.
"Sure, Jennie, destroying my kitchen was tons of fun," she replies with a smirk.
"Don't be a prude," I quickly retort. "What else would you have done?"
"I'd probably be sitting on my couch relaxing."
I cough into my hand. "Boring." But hell, I'd probably be doing the same thing. I can't judge her.
"Or maybe I'd relax in the hot tub," she goes on. My eyes suddenly pop up to hers, my interest piqued.
Hot tub?
"You have a hot tub?" I ask. She smirks at my eagerness.
"Maybe."
"Well, where is it?"
"Out back."
No fucking way. What a perfect excuse to get Lisa hot, nearly naked, and wet - all for my visual enjoyment, of course. But just as soon as the image pops into my head my rational side is jumping up and down, warning flags going berserk, screaming, "Abort fantasy! Abort!"
I don't even have a bathing suit. Damn it, why didn't I anticipate something like this? But my underwear does cover up just as much, albeit less tastefully...
My rationale is glaring at me in shame. I should really listen to her but damn, she never lets me have any fun. If I had listened to her tonight I'd be watching Lost for the umpteenth time on my sofa, just me and a date with Ben & Jerry. Which actually doesn't sound so bad... but seeing Lisa in a hot tub sounds better. Much, much better.
My inner vixen blurts out shamelessly before I can stop her. "Want to get in tonight?"
Holy shit. Voicing it aloud really brings to light just how stupid of an idea this is. If she tries something funny, I'll have nowhere to go expect streaking through her house, nearly naked.
She looks at me a moment as if carefully calculating his decision. "You don't have a bathing suit," she finally states.
She's right, of course; a part of me cheers in triumph, relieved, while another part dies a little on the inside. I don't argue.
"Yeah, that's true," I grumble. "Maybe this weekend or something?"
I've just inadvertently invited myself back to her home this weekend. That's not good - not good at all. But before I can take it back, Lisa concedes. "Maybe."
Maybe? Just maybe? What's going on with her? It's like she's gone from a desperate, horny person trying to win a bet to someone who's indifferent either way. It doesn't make sense. Has she called off the bet? Did something I say last night actually get to her? A girl can only hope.
All the spices have been gathered together on the counter. Just to test her, I pick them up and carry them to the cupboard where I haphazardly throw them in the slots. I don't bother checking names and don't put a single spice where it actually goes. I'm very obvious in my behaviour, wondering if Lisa will notice.
It only takes her about ten seconds before she's at my back, so close I can feel her body heat. She's peering over my shoulder at my progress.
"Those are supposed to go in certain slots," she informs me. I look up at her innocently.
"But the names are on the lids," I lightly argue.
"But the names are also on the rack," she counters, pointing them out to me. "They're organised so they're easy to find."
"Well that's dumb," I say. "I'd want to organise my own spices the way I want them."
"Yes, but I like it this way," she says, and the next thing I know she's gently pushing me out of the way.
"Here, I'll do this."
I roll my eyes but retreat. I head to the sink and rinse the last of the dishes before cramming them inside his dishwasher. I still don't know what to think - she's obviously not pleased yet doesn't seem to be mad. And she's not making any sneaky moves. She's just so... calm. Impassive. Infuriatingly indifferent. What are you thinking, Lisa Manoban?
The kitchen is nearly clean. The dishwasher is loaded, the trash is gone and the counters are shining and sleek. The only thing left is the floor; I throw towels down and began mopping it up while Lisa finishes reorganising her beloved spice rack. When she's done she pulls a bottle of Pine-Sol from underneath the sink and begins mixing up a cleaning mixture in a bowl. We sweep, clean, and mop up the floor in silence.
As I'm walking past her I step in a soapy area and slip; she reaches out to catch me and I grab a fistful of her shirt, nearly bringing her down with me, stretching the fabric in the process. Lisa helps right us both with a low chuckle.
"You're just a recipe for disaster, huh, Kim?"
Her face is just inches from mine, her hand still grasping my arm tightly. The close proximity is unnerving, as always, and I find my vision zoning in on her lips. I quickly refocus and push her away with a scowl.
"It seems you bring out the worst in me," I mutter. Lisa cups a hand over her ear.
"What's that? Did you say I bring out the best in you?"
"Don't flatter yourself, Lisa." she chuckles.
I initiated the kiss last night. Granted, I cock blocked her twice, but that's a mere technicality. If she wants to lay me so fucking badly then why isn't she trying to kiss me again? Am I that horrible of a kisser? Surely not...