After putting on some boxer shorts and a shirt, I stare at the digital clock on the nightstand.
My eyes dart to the brunette on the mattress whose back faces me.
Her lower body parts are covered by the duvet as she’s sleeping.
I grab my duffel bag, preparing to leave.
The sudden small movements she makes causes me to curse.
I wish she didn’t wake up.
“You’re leaving?” she asks in a raspy voice once awake.
“Yep,” is my flat response as I head for the door.
“Can’t you stay a little longer?” her plea causes me to grunt.
Why must they always ask that?
Girls like her know what they’re getting themselves into with me and yet. . .
It’s always the same predictable scenario.
I turn around only for my deadpan look to clash with her imploring gaze.
“Why bother? Just go back to sleep,” I command.
She sits on the bed before leaning her back against the leathered headrest.
As she raises the duvet to cover her bare upper body parts, she mutters, “So you’re as cold as they say.”
Without looking back, I don’t bother responding.
A loud knock on the door causes me to halt.
The knock is more persistent seconds later whereas I feel reluctant to open the door for unknown reasons.
“Brianna, have you seen Eva? I can’t find her anywhere.”
The familiar voice coming from the other side helps me identify the source.
The sound of loud foot stomps from the background indicates she isn’t too far behind.
Before I know it, the brunette whose body is now enwrapped in a towel sidesteps me to open the door.
Stood at the other side of the hall is Samira with her beige turban as she’s dressed in an oversized hoodie of the same colour.
And there goes the familiar rush of adrenaline whenever I see her.
Shock is written all over her face upon assessing us in silence.
I must’ve imagined the brief look of affliction behind those hazel eyes because it disappears in an instant before I can begin my search.
My breath quickens as I struggle to keep my stupid emotions in check.
Play it cool dude; act like you don’t care.