Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“I said I don’t want to shower!” He steps away and, after a moment of hesitation, turns, going straight for the door.
“What? Where are you going?” I ask, following him, but he’s already out, off the porch, and gone behind the grey veil of rain.
What. The. Fuck?
“Oh, come on!” I whine in frustration, resting my hands on the wooden balustrade encircling the porch as disappointment sinks in. What the hell happened? “Creep!” I call out into the dying light of day. “Creep, come back! Let’s talk!”
I step from under the porch roof, not even caring that I’m getting soaked, because where on earth could he have disappeared to? Behind a tree? Into a bush? I search for him all around my cabin, praying that I don’t catch a tick when lush ferns stroke my legs.
All I get is the steady tapping of rain on the grass, the trees, the roof of my cabin—
The roof.
My gaze shoots up, and while I don’t see him, I swear I spot a shadow up there.
“I can see you!” I bluff, because I have nothing to lose.
Creep’s tattooed hands grab the ridge of the roof, then he climbs over and sits there like a cat in a tree. It’s late, and while the sky remains pale, the sun’s gone. He’s barely a shadow, sitting on the damn roof while the cold water drizzles over us both.
I stare back, blinking when rain gets into my eyes. I’m offering him sex, and this is his response? Unbelievable.
“Of course, because nothing says I want you so much like running away onto the cold roof,” I shout, hoping the rain drowns out my voice, and we won’t make a spectacle of ourselves. The cabins might be decently spaced out, but I do have neighbors.
Creep covers his head with his hands. I’m not sure if he’s trying to hide from the rain, or if it’s a gesture of frustration. He’s the frustrated one? I’m the one having to peel the onion that he is and not cry in the process.
“I just wanted to sleep under your bed!” he yells back.
Wow. Just… wow.
“That makes no sense,” I call back as the rain soaks my T-shirt, making it stick to my skin. I glance over my shoulder when something creaks. Lo and behold, I spot a face in the window of the nearest dwelling. “Get down from there! I’m not talking to you like this, with people listening in like we’re two clowns in the circus!”
Creep opens his mouth, then closes it several times but says nothing. Great, now we’re not only clowns. We’re also mimes.
“I’ve had it! I’m getting up there,” I say with new determination, and climb the balustrade, though I don’t yet know how to get to the roof. Creep is taller than me, and seems to have experience with things like this, but it won’t deter me.
My threat wakes him up at least, and I hear some shuffling on the roof as I grab the drainpipe. It’s slimy, perhaps because of moss, but I ignore the unpleasant sensation.
“Don’t. You’ll slip!”
“Oh, so now you’re worried?” I challenge him, leaning back a little in an attempt to catch a glimpse of him. “But you’re leaving me no choice. Might as well break my leg trying to join you up there or go down with pneumonia,” I call out, closing my eyes when a huge drop of water falls straight on my forehead. If he doesn’t care about his own wellbeing, maybe he’ll care about mine enough to end this madness.
I try to pull myself up as I continue talking, “You know, I’ve never been good at this kind of stuff. When I was a kid, I broke my arm falling off a chair. Freak accident.”
“Okay! Okay! I’m coming down,” Creep says and slides off the roof with the agility of a cat, then drops to the wet ground with just as much grace.
A part of me freezes, as if I’m a mouse that’s carelessly tempting a predator closer, but I can’t help wanting him back with me. My heart beats faster when his shadowy figure approaches, but I keep holding on to the damn drainpipe, because everything is slippery, and I do worry about ending up with a sprained ankle or worse.
I haven’t thought this through.
Before I can consider asking for help, Creep’s arms are around me and he helps me down with the strength of a much bigger guy. I don’t get this thing with him. He’s not even kissed me. This thing between us is so messy. But also… different, like nothing I’ve experienced before.
“Go inside, don’t catch a cold,” he mumbles, stepping away. Now that he’s wet, the hair covers even more of his face in sticky streaks.
“Only if you come with me. We can talk inside, but you have to promise you won’t just run,” I say and reach for his hand. It’s surprisingly warm, as if he generates excessive heat and could keep me warm even in this rain.