A Bad Boy's Worst Nightmare (Book 1)

5. Bacon

The sun was in my face when I woke up, and I shifted uncomfortably. When I blinked my eyes open, I looked around my room a little bit. There was a sweatshirt across my pillow, and my bed was unmade. I forced myself out of the warmth and comfort that my bed offered and walked downstairs, my bare feet making no noise against the wooden floor. When I got to the kitchen, I made a few strips of bacon and some oatmeal, nibbling on it quietly as I sat there. I normally spent my mornings alone, so it was nothing new by any means, but that didn't mean I liked it.

Suddenly, with the sound of approaching footsteps, I remembered that I wasn't spending the morning alone this time.

I kept my eyes on my oatmeal, stirring it lightly with my spoon.

Corey came and leaned against the doorway of the kitchen, so I looked up.

Correction: shirtless Corey leaned against the doorway of the kitchen.

He had a beanie on, which I hadn't realized he had with him last night, but his chest and arms were completely bare while his loose jeans hung lowly on his waist.

I felt my face turn bright red. "What the hell?" I exclaimed, shielding my eyes.

"You said I could sleep here," he said simply. "This is how I sleep. So shut it and look at me before you make me have body image issues."

I slowly removed my hand from my eyes and allowed myself to look at him. He was well built; I had been correct in thinking that he was muscular. To my vague surprise, his right arm was covered in tattoos. Normally, I wasn't one to enjoy looking at tattoos, but for him it kind of...worked. As my eyes travelled over him, I found the blush draining from my cheeks. I wasn't embarrassed anymore. It almost felt normal to look at him.

When my eyes returned to his face, I found that he was watching me just as intently as I was watching him. I couldn't read his eyes from where I was, but his face was serious.

"Um..." I cleared my throat to strengthen my voice. "Go take a shower or something. I'm going to make breakfast. I forgot I had someone else in the house, sorry."

He nodded slowly, and turned.

I couldn't help but stare. There were two more tattoos on his back. One was a wing, a beautiful and elegant sight, but the other was a black wing that appeared torn and broken, with feathers trailing down his back in a random pattern until they stopped just above his pants line. I walked up behind him, not realizing how quickly I was moving, and tentatively reached out to touch the black wing. I traced over it lightly with my fingertip and felt him immediately tense.

"What...are you doing?" he asked. For the first time since I had met him, he seemed nervous.

I continued tracing over the wing quietly, then followed the trail of feathers with my fingertip.

He shivered.

I stopped touching him, though his warmth felt nice, and stepped back. "Your tattoos are beautiful."

Corey didn't say anything.

I waited for a reply from him, remaining quiet as well.

Finally, he said, "I'm going to take a shower," and walked away toward the upstairs bathroom.

I walked back to the pan that I had cooked bacon in, put some more strips in it, and sat on the counter to wait for it to cook. I leaned forward and put my forehead in my hands.

I really had no idea what I was doing anymore.

* * * * *

Corey's Point Of View

I froze when I felt her touch my shoulder. Heat, very hot but not painful, spread through my body.

Her finger trailed across the pattern of what I assumed was my tattoo.

The heat grew hotter. "What...are you doing?" I asked, barely able to keep my voice steady and calm.

She didn't reply and I felt her finger move across my skin, lower, and almost all the way down my lower back. A shiver coursed through my body, strangely pleasant, and I felt her finger stop. "Your tattoos are beautiful," she said softly.

Too close. She was too close. My pulse was hammering and I could feel her cool breath against my skin when she spoke, and my body was warm from having felt her. I couldn't reply. My breathing was light and shaken. I wanted to just turn around and pull her against me, or rather put her against a wall, so I could kiss her and feel her more properly against me. If she touched me again, I wasn't sure that I could keep myself from doing just that.

"I'm going to take a shower," I said suddenly in an attempt to escape. She didn't stop me, so I took that opportunity to walk away. When I reached the bathroom, I took a deep breath to steady myself as well as my pulse. Closing the door behind me, I decided that the shower I was going to take should probably be a cold one if I wanted to control myself. I ran a hand through my hair. She truly was a nightmare.

A bad boy's worst nightmare was a girl that made him want to be a good one.