Page 47 of Bad Habit
“Yeah…” She turns to face the wall with me. A slow excited smile spreads across her lips. “You’re going to let me do the whole wall?!” Her whole body celebrates so enthusiastically that she throws her hands up, spilling her coffee, and flooding the floor around her feet when the cup falls. “Hot. Fucking. Hot.” She gasps out.
I rush to the closet that has all the towels and get back to her as fast as I can. However as soon as I round the corner I nearly tumble over the couch because she is standing there in her leggings and no bra. “Mia!” I attempt to toss her the towel while also turning around.
“You’ve seen them, don’t be weird.”
“Put them away.”
“If having my tits out is too much for you, probably don’t turn around.”
Damn it.I can’t stop myself from doing exactly that. “Where the fuck are your pants?” She’s turned fully around now, standing only in the tiniest bit of fabric. She bends over and unzips the bag she brought with her. A large black shirt is now drowning her. She is once again holding a mess in her hands and I realize it’s her clothes all bundled together.
She stomps right past me as she says, “I am not going to be sticky for the rest of the day. Do you like to be sticky? Of course not.” I follow right behind her as she walks through the kitchen and I barely manage to guide her out of the way of running into the island counter. She never misses a beat and keeps marching down the back hallway that leads to the guest bathroom. “I mean, I did have full intention to wear this shirt anyways. It’s one of my favorites.Sosoft.” She moans, throwing her head back, and nearly walking into the door frame of the bathroom this time.
I manage to get my hand wrapped around the spot of the frame she almost hits her head on as she peaks inside the bathroom and pivots quickly. I have no fucking idea where she’s going, but I’ve been around her enough to know that I’m just along for the ride until she figures it out. She makes a left and pauses for a thoughtful second before decidingto go down another small hallway that leads to the back of the house. “Good thing you’ve already seen me naked or this would be awkward.” She starts laughing with her whole chest now and I have to shift her with a hand on her side before she hip-checks this skinny table I have in the hallway. She spins, opens up the door before my bedroom door, and screams, “Found it!” The fucking laundry room. That’s what she was looking for.
She doesn’t even stop to ask permission or where anything is. She just continues on like this is her home and I’m the one visiting. “I promise to clean up the floor too. Obviously. But I wanted to get these put in the wash first. Since you decided that it’s atrocious to see me without pants all of a sudden.” She pours in the soap and the fabric softener, working my machine with ease. “Not very feral playboy fighter of you, Oliver.” I scratch the scruff starting to show on my jaw from where I haven’t shaved. She turns and raises her eyebrow at me.
She reaches up on her tiptoes to put the soap back on the shelf mounted over the washer. I don’t know how she got it down so easily to begin with or maybe I wasn’t paying attention. The shirt rides up to the point where the curve of her ass is peeking out from underneath.
“You think I don’t like seeing you without pants on?” I ask her, trying to clear the hunger to push the shirt up higher.
“You acted like I offended you earlier.” She argues back as her heels touch the ground again and the damn shirt falls back to her thighs.
“You being naked in my house and my mouth not on you is an offense, pretty girl.” I watch her mouth pop open in surprise at my words. I clap my hands together and point both my index fingers at her. “But that’s not why you are here. We have work to do.” I leave the room and make my way back to the living room with the light patter of her feet behind me. I’m going to spend the next few hours pretending that I don’t know she has no fucking bra on under that shirt and I don’t remember how soft her skin is.
We’ve been working for hours. She’s demanded that I give her full control of music and I’ve acted like I hate everything she’s picked. The truth is that I have been paying attention to every lyric in every song, hoping it will give me more access to the way her soul craves to feel. She likes sad music. But it’s not heartbreak and lost love. It’s music about battling with unwanted noise and battles that make you feel like you are screaming into a void. And she sings every note. This is completely different from her fun playlists.
Working seamlessly together as I lay the mortar and then she lays the brick. I admit I was a little nervous about the mess but the biggest source of the mess was the residue of mortar and grout mixture on her skin from where she is still only wearing that damn shirt. I bought almost enough brick for the whole wall. We’re just shy of a small portion of the wall. She’s finishing up the last spot as I stand and wipe my hands off with a washcloth. She had pulled her hair up on top of her head just a few minutes into getting started. Little pieces are framing her face and she looks proud as she steps back to look at what we’ve accomplished with the wall.
“This is going to look so good when we get it done.” She says, admiring her work. She wipes her hand on her leg carelessly leaving another streak.
“You want to take a shower?” I offer without thinking.
She tilts her head to the side, smirking up at me. “Is that an invitation?”
She’s messing with me and I almost let her know it’s a standing invitation. But she should shower and get all the cement mixture off her skin before it gets too irritated. I can easily clean up without having totake a shower. She’s different when she isn’t obligated by everything and everyone else around her. Quieter but calm about it. And I like that my house is where she is like that.
“Go shower. I’ll grab your clothes for you to change back into and I’ll make pasta.” The mention of food makes her eyes light up.
“AJ was pissed that you cooked for me. She said that you pretend you don’t know how to cook.” I’m walking behind her as she slowly makes her way to the bathroom.
“They are all brats. And I only cook when I want to.” I grab two towels for her. “I should have whatever you need in there, but if you need something else just yell for me.” I nod behind her toward the open bathroom. “I’ll grab your clothes and put them on the counter. Meet me in the kitchen when you’re done.”
Hugging the towels to her chest, she grins. I know that wicked look she’s wearing. “You boss around all the girls you let in your house?”
“You’re the only one I let in here.” I turn around before she has the chance to say something that makes it harder to walk away knowing she is about to be naked and wet.
The water shuts off as I am getting everything set up after cleaning myself up. She only takes about twenty minutes in the shower. Which isn’t enough time to really get anything started for the pasta. I grab tomatoes, cream, and all my favorite seasonings. I personally love making this over crusted eggplant but opt for noodles today. Simple and easy but still delicious. I can hear her before I see her. She rounds the corner with her hair let down now and the cutoff hoodie and leggings she was in when she first got here. The closer she gets, I’m attacked by something I wasn’t expecting.
“You smell like me.”
“I used your soap.” Of course she used my soap. What else was she supposed to use? I missed the cherry smell but something about her smelling like me made my blood pulse differently. She comes to standnext to me before saying, “Want me to help? I’m not a very good cook but I can try.” And I know she would. She would give it her best effort and then figure out how to do it even better.
I motion with the end of the knife to the empty spot on the counter next to me, the same spot she sat on last time. “Let me take care of you.” I didn’t intend for the words to feel as heavy as they did when they left my lips. She glances between me and that spot a few times, deciding to take the seat. I go back to cutting the tomatoes while the pan heats up. “Did you have a good time with your grandma the other day?” I really wanted to ask about her date again, but I figure she will be more willing to talk to me about her grandma.
“I always have the best time with her. We had to go dress shopping for our birthday dinner.” I can only imagine the type of dress she picked out. One thing that is always for certain with Mia is she defies all reality when she wears a dress.
“Do you two celebrate together?” I grab the bag of cherries from the fridge that I’ve already prewashed and pour some into a bowl handing them to her. I can tell she wants to say something about me having them here for her but she closes her mouth and decides not to.
