Resisting Rosaleen (18+)

44

Today I saw a naked woman.

That doesn't happen often unless the woman is me and I'm in front of my bathroom mirror.

But today, I saw a naked woman and she didn't even mind. Instead, she acknowledged me with a wave and a welcoming smile on her plump lips before grabbing a robe, putting her arms through the holes, and giving Leonel a kiss on the cheek. They obviously just fucked and I felt like I was disturbing their privacy.

And Leonel, well, he just stood half-naked in front of me with bed hair and a glass of rum in his hand. It's eight in the morning.

"Heard you graduated," he smirked and raised his glass, "Congrats, Rosaleen."

"Did I come at a bad time? because..." my voice trailed off and I pointed at the woman who lounged on the couch and acted as if we're not in the same room.

"Oh, this is Jade," Leonel gestured weakly at the girl who mouthed a 'hi' when she heard her name.

"Hi, Jade," I said reluctantly.

"How about we talk in the kitchen?" suggested Leonel. The light from the large windows of his living room are blinding, but not as blinding as Jade's naked body.

Don't be rude, Rosaleen. Don't stare at her vagina.

"Yes, let's do that," I said in an odd tone.

Leonel Alexeev turned for the kitchen and I noticed a tiny detail on his back that I never expected him to have and no, not the hickies.

"Is that a tattoo?" I squinted at the small angel wings on his upper back, right below his neck.

"No, it's a very detailed birth mark in the shape of angel wings," he commented sarcastically as we arrived in the kitchen.

"I didn't peg you as the tattoo type," I admitted. It was a beautiful and very detailed work of art inked on his skin.

"I'm full of surprises, malyshka," he put his glass on the island and leaned against the counter, arms crossing in front of his chest as he faced me. Leonel was pretty confident with his body, accepting guests in only a pair of black boxers.

We were silent for a while with Mr. Alexeev assessing my state. He read between the lines and curves of my face before he spoke again, "I'm not gonna ask how you are. I know you're a wreck inside."

I didn't know how to respond to his deduction and he must've noticed because he continued, "And I'm not gonna say that I want to kill Mr. Camillo because that's uncalled for."

Thank heavens. Finally someone who doesn't resort to violence.

"But I am going to ask you this: what now?" he licked his lips and stared me down. His gaze was putting pressure on me.

"My dad came to visit. He said I should move to New York," I sighed and let my eyes scan his home because the intensity of his gaze held by mine was unbearable. "What do you think?" I asked my friend.

"I think you should go," he spoke clearly, "Unless you wanna run into Bianca again and again with her stomach bigger each time."

"You and I both know that I don't wanna leave this place," I admitted.

"Then why did you ask me?" he snorted. "You're in the process of moving on which means you're sentimental," he told me, proving once more that he'd be a psychologist in another life. "But if I know Rosaleen Martin, I know that she can do anything she's determined to do."

"You're telling me everything I need to hear and I hate that," groaning, I massaged my temples.

"If Nikolas wasn't in the picture, you'd agree to fly to that city without hesitation," he said. "A relationship is toxic if two people are holding each other down. He's holding you down and you're not even in a relationship, darling. I don't know what the hell that's called."