When We Grow Up

Chapter 7 - Hell's Bathroom

Chapter 7 - Hell's Bathroom

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Rosie's POV

I could hardly even keep my eyes open the next morning; yeah, I stayed up that late reading. Every single time I did it, I vowed to myself that I wouldn't do it again. If anything, that was just one of many examples of how easily my self-resolve could crumble. But I liked to think that I was pretty strong when it came to certain things, too. Like my bathroom-mate from hell.

Putting up with him was more than enough to drive anyone else insane.

He always left the toilet seat up. Hated that. He used way more toilet paper than necessary, and when that happened, it always seemed to run out right before I went in, so I was the one who always ended up going down to the next floor in order to grab a fresh roll out of the linen closet. Hated that.

He woke up much earlier than I did, so he used the shower first and by the time I made it in, all the hot water was gone. On the good days, I could get about five minutes of lukewarm water before it turned into an icy spray that could've passed for snow hitting my bare skin. Hated that, too.

Not to mention, he always somehow managed to get shower water all over the tiled floor. Our bathroom had one of those tubs with a shower head mounted on one of the surrounding walls, so the tub's sides should've been enough to keep the water confined, but noo. It was like a mini pond in there whenever I walked in. One of these days, I just knew I was going to slip and crack my head on the floor.

Here lies Rose Lively, who slipped on Gabriel Fayne's shower water and split her skull open.

Yeah, I don't think so.

When I looked at myself brushing my teeth in the mirror, I realized that the scowl my mouth was twisted into was rather unattractive. I couldn't help it! He was just...ugh! Infuriating!

Today, I'd gotten up just a little earlier than usual, hoping to get the shower before he did this time, but unfortunately, I didn't beat him. I'd just take a shower before I went to bed, then.

As I spat out my rinsing water into the sink, my arm automatically reached behind me in search of my fluffy towel that I always kept on that specific rack. I frowned in confusion and spun around. My pink towel was nowhere to be found. I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand, doing a thorough scan of the bathroom. No towel.

Letting out a frustrated growl, I threw the door to Gabriel's room open, yelling, "Gabe! Have you seen my-gah!" He turned around and my jaw hit the floor as my cheeks burned crimson. "Uh-"

"Can I help you?" he asked smoothly, crossing his arms over his bare chest. My pink towel was wrapped around his waist and looked dangerously close to falling off.

"Why do you have my towel?" I choked out. For an ass, he sure did have a nice body. No! Don't look at him, don't look at him-

Gabriel walked closer. "Do you want it back?"

"Ye-"

His hand dropped to the towel and I squeaked in outrage when he appeared to be-

"No! D-don't take it off now!" I cried, batting his hand away from his waist. Oh, God, I can't believe how uncomfortably close I was from seeing...it.

He burst out laughing. "That was hilarious! You're such a prude," he chortled. My eyes went wide open when he actually pinched my cheeks. "Aw, look who's blushing."

I yanked my head back. "Shut up! And give me my towel back! Don't you have one?"

"Yeah, well, I forgot to bring it in today so I had to borrow yours," Gabriel shrugged.