"Fine," I say. "You'll have a new check tonight."
Satisfied, Ava collects the plates from the table and my credit card to pay for my bill. When she returns to wipe down the table surface, I keep busy, rolling my newly filled glass between my palms, wondering if maybe Ava embodies the type of loyalty that I've so easily discarded as myth. She's not without her faults, though.
"You're lying again, little one," I say. This is as good a time as any to bring it up. I haven't been able to confront her on this over the past few days. "I guess old habits die hard."
"Stop calling me little one," she says, barely glancing at me. "It worked when we were kids, but it just sounds stupid now, since I'm practically as tall as you."
She's tall, nowhere near as tall as I am, but I suppose her ego makes up the difference.
"Why'd you tell me Julia's a lesbian?"
"I never said she was a lesbian."
"You know you did, in not so many words. Too bad she's not into guys. Took me less than a day to figure out that wasn't true."
Her eyes widen. "Did you--?"
"No. I didn't sleep with her. There are other ways of finding out, such as asking the person. So, answer my question. Why did you lie?"
"I just got the impression she's not a fan of men at the moment. I don't know. Some of the things she said." Ava shrugs. "What's it matter, anyway? You're going to stay away from her."
"I am?"
My smirk seems to piss her off and I know her well enough to duck and fling my arms over my head to protect from the slaps she rains down all over me. Some of them sting the skin on the back of my forearm.
"Okay, okay. Stop." I straighten in my seat when she lets up on her attack, but I don't make any promises.
I simply can't stay away from Julia. She's too fun to mess with. One of my admittedly less mature pastimes over the past few days has been watching my new roommate's eyes spark in anger when I prod her and get under her skin. I can't remember the last time I enjoyed pushing someone's buttons as much as I enjoy it with Julia.
It's fun to watch her attempts to show me she isn't uncomfortable around me. Even while it's obvious that she isn't comfortable living with a man. Watching the shyness show on her face, despite the sharp edges she tries to flaunt, is the reason I don't even bother putting on a shirt in the mornings until she's left the house.
Julia has an edginess about her exotic looks. An unintentional type of confidence I've never seen before. It's not the blatant, openly flirtatious kind that demands attention. It's an unassuming confidence in the way she's always fresh-faced, her hair down in natural dark waves and parted in the middle. She's the type of girl who doesn't try too hard. Not exactly a tomboy, but not far from it, either. She doesn't dress to accentuate her curves the way girls with her body type can when they want to. Yet, sexiness creeps out of her anyway, despite her efforts to the contrary. But never more than when she's pissed. She lights up from underneath and all around, on fire. Daring me to touch her.
Ava snaps a finger in front of my face, like she knows my thoughts are wandering somewhere dangerous. "Seriously, you're pissing me off with your inability to keep it in your pants. I've had to deal with the aftermath of you hooking up with my friend. I'm not dealing with that under my own roof, okay? I get that you're heartbroken and somehow...screwing your way out of it--"
"I'm not heartbroken," I correct.
She straightens her apron in a way that makes me dread where this conversation is going.
"Look, I know the anniversary of uncle Finn's death is coming up," she says. "I know how--"
"Don't go there, Ava." My tone grows icy.
"I'm just worried--"
"Don't be--"
"--that you bottle it all up, refuse to talk about it, and think being a manwhore is somehow going to--"
"Ava."
She falls silent at my definitive tone then shakes her head as I get up, declaring this conversation over.
"I'll see you at home," I tell her.
"She's off limits, Giles."
"Sure she is," I say, without looking back.
I wake the next morning with a dull headache, which I find strange because I barely drank last night. Searching my nightstand for some aspirin proves pointless. There's none in my bathroom, either. I'm half asleep as I make it out into the hall. The place is quiet and I'm not sure what time it is, but I think everyone's still asleep.
I head down to the girls' bathroom, turning the knob and pushing inside before I register how damp the air is. The shower curtain is drawn and Julia stands just outside of the tub, hair soaked and clinging to the sides of her head.
We both freeze, eyes going wide. Except mine are powerless to stop from following one of the water droplets as it rolls down her collarbone, between her full breasts, down the concave of her flat stomach to the smooth, shaved skin between her parted legs.
Holy shit.
The towel she snatches from the rail obscures my sight. She pulls it tight over herself and snaps, "What the fuck, Giles?!"
I look up at her face, which I haven't glimpsed since walking in. She's beyond pissed, her entire expression twisted by fury.
"Get out!" she yells.
"Hang on," I say, turning leisurely to the medicine cabinet.
I'm already here, might as well get what I came for. I find a bottle of aspirin and, shutting the cabinet again, I catch her reflection. Her mouth is half open as she continues to pull the towel tighter around herself, deep lines between her brows.
"Just needed these," I say, pretending I don't notice her expression. But, as I turn to the door again, I glance back over my shoulder. "Nice tits, by the way."
She hurls toward me and I duck out of the room laughing and close the door behind me. Two thundering booms mark her banging her fists against the door.
"Asshole!"
Fuck. What a tight little body. And those breasts? Man, I can already see what they'd look like bouncing around during a good pounding. I run a hand over the front of my boxers, smoothing out the beginnings of a hard-on. Then I head back to my room, because the last thing I need is for her to come out of the bathroom to witness what seeing her like that did to me.
Julia, off limits? Yeah, I don't think so.
Chapter Seven
Julia
THE MIRROR REVEALS THE MORTIFIED expression still on my face, five whole minutes after Giles left the bathroom. I've never wanted to strangle him as bad as I do in this moment. Any decent person would've immediately shut the door, apologizing for walking in. But not Giles. No, that asshole just strolled right in, after helping himself to a full-on sweep of my naked body, and then rummaged through the medicine cabinet as if nothing had happened. Like he had every right to be in here with me. Like he didn't care I was practically shaking with anger behind him.