It's March and I'm not going anywhere for March break.
Technically, it's my last hurrah so I should be getting shitfaced in Florida and sleep with any guy even slightly interested, but I don't even feel like it.
I actually prefer staying cooped up in my apartment.
Eloise left. She's probably straddling a poor guy's shoulder right now screaming WHO WANTS TO TAKE SHOTS OUT OF MY BOOOOODY with her top off.
My sister is predictable. I can't judge though. I'd probably be doing the same thing if I was with her.
Instead I'm sitting on the couch watching Chef's Table on Netflix and making myself hungry.
Holt is lying down on the couch beside me, his head on a cushion.
I ruffle his hair. He slaps my hand away playfully. "Hey! Hands off the merchandise," he says, turning his head a bit to look at me sternly, and then he grabs the pillow that was under his head and cradles it against his chest.
I ruffle his hair again.
"Leaaaaave Briiiiitney aloooooooone," he whines and that just makes me laugh and mess with his hair again.
Holt sits up. "Come on, you're like a kid on sugar with no outlet, let's go do something,"
I throw my head back and whine as an answer.
Holt ignores me. "How about we stop being useless human being and go to the gym."
I shake my head. "You go, I'll stay here and merge with the couch."
He's on his feet now, looking at me all commanding. "Eliah, get off your ass."
I wiggle my eyebrows. "Oh Smooches, keep talking sexy to me," but Holt is unaffected. He's just narrowing his eyes at me. I sigh and get on my feet, and Holt suddenly smiles in answer.
So, we've been living together for about one year and half and I've never gone to the gym with Holt. I've seen his IG stories and videos, so I have an idea of what kind of show I'll be getting.
I was sourly underestimating Holt's hotness ratio in a gym.
When we get there, Holt is just walking around like he owns the place and it's his turf, which it kinda is. He's basically at the gym every day.
We're late at night so there are just a couple of people here and I don't care being a lazy queen that's eyefucking the help. So after doing a couple reps of whatever I was doing, I go back to where Holt is.
He's doing chin ups and I'm ogling at him like a perv, sitting on one of the seats of the machines in front of him.
"Stop looking at me like that," Holt says, just a tiny bit out of breath.
I just grin and don't stop looking. "Like what?"
"Like I need to cover my boobs, you creep."
I automatically snort. "You're wearing a shirt though, which is kind of shame, so why would you?"
He lets go of the bar and drops back on his feet and it's fuuuuuucking hoooooooot.
He nudges me off the machine I'm sitting on.
"Come on, do something, I thought we came here to train."
"Oh I'm totally training, I'm training my self control."
He rolls his eyes, as always, unaffected. "Stop joking around."
"I ain't. You yummy. I should probably film you and put it on insta to get you more followers, but I totally don't wanna share you with anyone else," I inform him.
"You seriously need to get laid."
Oh, that's precious. "You offering?"
Holt throws his head back, discouraged. "Christ Eliah."
I laugh like a villain in a bad cartoon. "Do you know of any gay guys in this gym?"
"Yeah, just one..." he pauses, "you." And then he's chuckling like he's proud of his joke.
"Good god Holt, that was lazy on your part. I expect more from you."
"Sure," he pushes my shoulder again, "now go run on a treadmill or go squat in a corner, just do something instead of just staring at me."
"Why, is my naughty gaze turning you on?" I ask with a naughty grin.
Holt glares, "Boo, you're on a time out, go in the corner," he says, pointing away.
People are looking at me weirdly as I laugh like an idiot all the way to the treadmills.