Off to the Races
5th
Thunder roared through the sky, almost shaking the apartment as a whole. Emily hadn't come home yet, and if the cold from the window hadn't woken me I would have had no idea how late it was already. 11 AM. It was a part of our hidden rule book that we always found our way home before 7 AM. Not only as a way to save face, but to get ourselves out of potentially dangerous situations, especially if what we thought was a 9 turned out to be a 3. Maybe she picked up a shift? No, that doesn't sound like Em at all.
Emily wasn't exactly what you'd call a hard worker. She did the bare minimum, not enough to get her promoted and just enough to keep her prick of a boss from firing her. He'd had it out for her since the moment she started working at the hotel. He wanted her, bad, and she knew it. She'd made the mistake of leading him on and toying with his emotions before tearing him down with one simple 'no'. He was furious, even went to corporate to get her in trouble for acting promiscuous towards her superior. They didn't side with him, obviously, he was a snake that let it happen in the first place. Since he couldn't actually fire her with reason, he started cutting her shifts and making sure they didn't work at the same time. Maybe it was just me, but it seemed that involved a lot more effort than a normal person would put in.
A low grumble snapped me back into reality. Hardy was still here. How much had we drank last night? Did we.... we did. Oh god, we did. Normally this wouldn't come as a surprise to me, I've taken men home before, it just wasn't often that they turned me down before giving in. His words replayed in my mind a couple times over.
"You're not my type."
Bull fucking shit, I'm not your type, as you lay naked in my bed next to me. I sat up, rubbing my mascara covered eyes. I didn't even shower, or brush my teeth even. That became apparent the minute I opened my mouth to yawn, the smell of garlic and old whiskey emitting from my taste buds and gums. Disgusting.
"Hey."
I nudged his side with my elbow, using my hands to pull my long brown locks into a bun.
"Hey, Hardy. Hardy. Wake up." I called again, a look of annoyance fell over my face. He slept like a rock. I might as well take a shower, then. Hopefully the noise and clatter from the water pipes would help wake him.
The balls of my feet pressed on the hardwood, cold against my skin. I gathered my clothes for the day and headed towards the bathroom, leaving the door open just in case the burly man woke and wanted to join her. The clanking and banging sounds of water rushing to the shower head was loud enough to make my temples pulse. That man could drink, but so could I. Elizabeth Grant was not a woman you challenged to out drink, because chances are - you'd lose. That didn't change the fact that hang overs were way too entirely real.
Hot streams of water fell over my shoulders and down my back, I could feel my pores start to expand and thank me. I must've been in there for a while because when I finally looked down at my fingers they were raisins. I rotated the shower handles and turned the water off, grabbing my towel from the glass door. Normally after turning off the water I would hear silence, but no. I heard the sound of... peeing. Someone was peeing. Not just anyone, Hardy.
"Really?" I groaned, staying within the shower walls as I dried myself off.
"What, would you prefer I peed on the bed? Maybe the couch?" He was snappy, maybe he'd forgotten who he went to sleep with. I opened the shower door and hung the towel back over it, staring at his backside. The muscles... the scars, they were all mesmerizing. All I wanted to do was touch them, but I knew that was out of the question, for a number of reasons.
The first being that he was relieving his bladder, the second happened to be that one of the many hidden rules that Emily and I shared was: you never go back twice if you can help it. Not only did it prevent heart break, but it also prevented potential danger as well. Emily had a bad habit of getting herself into that.
Emily. That's who I needed to find. There was something about that Ron from Hyatt that I didn't like. I could read his hidden agenda like the alphabet, loud and clear. I cleared my throat as he finished doing his business, I watched him shake, then button his pants and turn to me. His eyes bulged from his sockets.
"Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm naked. But you moved my clothes from toilet seat that you're currently standing in front of so if you wouldn't mind.." I lifted an eye brow and pointed to the pile of clothes on top of the toilet seat and without hesitation or breaking of eye contact he handed them to me. Normally I'd be creeped out if someone were to watch me dress, especially if I'd just met the person the night before. But this one did win me 100k, and was probably one of the best lays I've ever had so I was feeling generous.
"I've got to find my friend. She -" Before I could finish my sentence, he interrupted me.
"Left with the weasel, I know. He's got a knack of trying to make girls stay the next day, I've heard. You should go find her, she's not going to be safe much longer. He can get pretty hostile if he doesn't get his way."
I blinked, silent. How did he know about Ron?
"Call it a man's intuition."
What was he, a mind reader? Either way, I was grateful to learn this new information. I knew I had a bad feeling about him, I just knew it.
"Walk with me." I moved past him, calling from the living room. I'd never put on a pair of shoes faster. At this point, I didn't care what my hair looked like. I just needed to find Emily, and I needed to find her now.
Emily wasn't exactly what you'd call a hard worker. She did the bare minimum, not enough to get her promoted and just enough to keep her prick of a boss from firing her. He'd had it out for her since the moment she started working at the hotel. He wanted her, bad, and she knew it. She'd made the mistake of leading him on and toying with his emotions before tearing him down with one simple 'no'. He was furious, even went to corporate to get her in trouble for acting promiscuous towards her superior. They didn't side with him, obviously, he was a snake that let it happen in the first place. Since he couldn't actually fire her with reason, he started cutting her shifts and making sure they didn't work at the same time. Maybe it was just me, but it seemed that involved a lot more effort than a normal person would put in.
A low grumble snapped me back into reality. Hardy was still here. How much had we drank last night? Did we.... we did. Oh god, we did. Normally this wouldn't come as a surprise to me, I've taken men home before, it just wasn't often that they turned me down before giving in. His words replayed in my mind a couple times over.
"You're not my type."
Bull fucking shit, I'm not your type, as you lay naked in my bed next to me. I sat up, rubbing my mascara covered eyes. I didn't even shower, or brush my teeth even. That became apparent the minute I opened my mouth to yawn, the smell of garlic and old whiskey emitting from my taste buds and gums. Disgusting.
"Hey."
I nudged his side with my elbow, using my hands to pull my long brown locks into a bun.
"Hey, Hardy. Hardy. Wake up." I called again, a look of annoyance fell over my face. He slept like a rock. I might as well take a shower, then. Hopefully the noise and clatter from the water pipes would help wake him.
The balls of my feet pressed on the hardwood, cold against my skin. I gathered my clothes for the day and headed towards the bathroom, leaving the door open just in case the burly man woke and wanted to join her. The clanking and banging sounds of water rushing to the shower head was loud enough to make my temples pulse. That man could drink, but so could I. Elizabeth Grant was not a woman you challenged to out drink, because chances are - you'd lose. That didn't change the fact that hang overs were way too entirely real.
Hot streams of water fell over my shoulders and down my back, I could feel my pores start to expand and thank me. I must've been in there for a while because when I finally looked down at my fingers they were raisins. I rotated the shower handles and turned the water off, grabbing my towel from the glass door. Normally after turning off the water I would hear silence, but no. I heard the sound of... peeing. Someone was peeing. Not just anyone, Hardy.
"Really?" I groaned, staying within the shower walls as I dried myself off.
"What, would you prefer I peed on the bed? Maybe the couch?" He was snappy, maybe he'd forgotten who he went to sleep with. I opened the shower door and hung the towel back over it, staring at his backside. The muscles... the scars, they were all mesmerizing. All I wanted to do was touch them, but I knew that was out of the question, for a number of reasons.
The first being that he was relieving his bladder, the second happened to be that one of the many hidden rules that Emily and I shared was: you never go back twice if you can help it. Not only did it prevent heart break, but it also prevented potential danger as well. Emily had a bad habit of getting herself into that.
Emily. That's who I needed to find. There was something about that Ron from Hyatt that I didn't like. I could read his hidden agenda like the alphabet, loud and clear. I cleared my throat as he finished doing his business, I watched him shake, then button his pants and turn to me. His eyes bulged from his sockets.
"Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm naked. But you moved my clothes from toilet seat that you're currently standing in front of so if you wouldn't mind.." I lifted an eye brow and pointed to the pile of clothes on top of the toilet seat and without hesitation or breaking of eye contact he handed them to me. Normally I'd be creeped out if someone were to watch me dress, especially if I'd just met the person the night before. But this one did win me 100k, and was probably one of the best lays I've ever had so I was feeling generous.
"I've got to find my friend. She -" Before I could finish my sentence, he interrupted me.
"Left with the weasel, I know. He's got a knack of trying to make girls stay the next day, I've heard. You should go find her, she's not going to be safe much longer. He can get pretty hostile if he doesn't get his way."
I blinked, silent. How did he know about Ron?
"Call it a man's intuition."
What was he, a mind reader? Either way, I was grateful to learn this new information. I knew I had a bad feeling about him, I just knew it.
"Walk with me." I moved past him, calling from the living room. I'd never put on a pair of shoes faster. At this point, I didn't care what my hair looked like. I just needed to find Emily, and I needed to find her now.
♠ ♠ ♠
I'm baaack. ;)