2. Rules

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Colton:

I feel fucking sick. This is exactly what happens every time I decide to try to sleep with someone. I fucking hate it. The sex, the touching, all of it. I don't like touching people and I fucking hate it when they touch me. But every once in a while my dick gets a little too desperate for my damn hand to satify.

Drying my hands with a paper towel, I stare at my reflection in the mirror and feel fucking disgusted with myself. I shouldn't have fucking done that when I knew that this is exactly how I feel right after. I should've never even tried, because nothing is fucking worth feeling like this.

My ears catch the sound of the toilet flushing behind me, and I throw the paper towel away before heading to the door. I can't fucking deal with this shit right now. Grabbing the handle, I pull the door open and step outside, only to slam into a petite figure that stumbles a few feet away at the sudden impact. The feeling of wanting to claw at my own skin intensifies for a mere second before my eyes catch the sight before me, and the breath gets knocked out of my damn lungs.

Fucking hell.

My eyes are glued to her as she regains her balance, and I know that she is by far the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. So fucking beautiful.

"Ouch." Raising a delicate hand, she rubs forehead with a small frown before she looks up at me. Time stands still as I stare into her big wide eyes. I never knew someone's eyes could ever be so fucking enchanting. I could stare at them for the rest of my goddamn life. Not green, not blue, but right in between, with long graceful eyelashes that has me fucking drooling.

Taking a deep breath, she releases it in a sigh. "Wow."

Smooth, flaming locks of auburn hair fall down her shoulders and almost to her elbows in thick soft waves. My hand twitches at my side in a command to touch them, and I frown as my heart skips a beat. Raising my hand, I rub at the sudden ache inside my chest.

What the fuck is happening to me?

Her eyes widen even more when she catches my movement. "I'm so sorry. Are you okay? I didn't see you because I wasn't looking. I apologize."

Fucking hell, she can put me to fucking sleep with that warm, soft voice of hers.

"You have the most beautiful eyes ever." She suddenly declares, and I frown again, biting my tongue to stop from telling her that her eyes are better. I don't say shit like that. I don't.

"I'm Lillian Grant, but everyone calls me Anne." She gives me a smile that has me gasping for damn air as she stretches her small hand for me to shake. My hand twitches at my side again, and I clench my jaw in anger because I want to fucking shake hers.

What the hell is going on?

"Are you mad because I bumped into you? I'm really sorry." Her voice is dripped in honey as she asks, and I narrow my eyes at her, wondering if she is actually serious. I'm the one who walked out of the women's fucking bathroom, and she's the one apologizing.

"What's your name? Do you want to be friends?" She speaks carefully, as if she is worried I might somehow snap at her, and that pisses me off. I stay silent, honestly debating becoming her friend for a second, and when she nervously fiddles with the hem of her purple dress like the sweetest fucking thing on earth I know my answer.

Fucking no, I don't want to be her friend. She's already messing with my damn head, and I've met her a minute ago.

Clearing her throat, she quickly adds, "I could introduce you to my other friends. I just met them but they all seem nice. They'll welcome you."

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