𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 [𝟏𝟖+] ✔

43

Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana blasts through the house as Eric works out downstairs. I can hear the clinking of weights on his bench, the volume turning up that tells me it's obviously one of his favourite songs. He plays them regularly. In the shower. Running. Even when cooking. He'd given me a top to sleep in one night, and shock, it had the band's logo on it.

And is it normal for someone to exercise so much in one day?

The guy is a tank, so I guess it pays off for him.

I make the mistake of going down for some water and a snack, glimpsing him shirtless and covered in sweat. His muscles are swollen, chest rising and falling as he runs both hands through his unruly hair, making it even messier. He checks his band before going into the next rep. Lying on his back, Eric does nothing to settle the coiling heat in my spine when he starts doing crunches.

It takes everything in me not to walk over and straddle him, to ride him until we wake up in another life, anything to keep us connected as one.

After giving me my gift and kissing my cheek, I had struggled to hide my blush, especially when he winked and continued to teach me how to shoot. He hadn't even tried to keep his hands off me, up until we had walked back without speaking, glancing at each other every minute. The pull between us is still so strong, still solid.

He must be able to sense how much he affects me. How can he believe my words when my actions are the total opposite? I blush, giggle, and even get nervous around him as if he's my high-school crush.

Eric is smart. I need him to use his brain and see that none of this is real. I want him to tell me that he's going to fix this before kissing me until my lungs beg for oxygen.

I tiptoe into the kitchen; thankful he hasn't noticed me. I've only got around three hours until we need to leave and haven't even washed my hair yet. I pull myself onto the counter, legs swinging while I eat my crisps and sip water.

I stop mid-chew when I see Eric walking in, his eyes locked on me. "You done hiding in the room?"

My gaze narrows, watching him as he stops at the sink in front of me to refill his bottle. "I wasn't hiding. I was reading."

He hums, a smile playing on his mouth. "Sure," he replies, popping the lid back on. When Eric turns to me, I feel the heat rushing through me from his near nakedness, and it turns to an inferno when his eyes drop to my bare legs. He swallows, leaning against the counter opposite me. "Gary, Ainsley, and Orla are coming here first and then walking with us to the town hall."

"Gareth," I correct him. Because to be honest, sometimes he can be rude with misnaming people on purpose. "I still have no idea why you don't address him properly. Why is that? It makes you look like a dick."

Eric shrugs before crossing his arms, which only makes his biceps bulge and my heart race. "I am a dick."

I snort and avert my eyes to stop my gaze from dropping any lower. I can't help it. Even in shorts, Eric's... package is considerably large and the outline of it is scaring the shit out of me. That was inside of me? How? How am I alive?

He goes into detail about our plans while I blatantly check him out. After a lengthy complaint from Ains, he has agreed that we will go the long way to avoid having to wear riot gear. We are scheduled to leave at half-past six, and the party ends at midnight, but Eric tells me that if I'm too tired or want to leave early, he's good with it.

The entire time he talks, I watch him. I watch the way his lips caress each word, the way his tongue darts out, the dimple that dents in when he realises I'm no longer paying attention to anything he's saying.