Smash!

•T W E N T Y O N E•

Riley's POV

"I didn't know you looked pretty with wet hair." I have to grip the mug of soggy cereal in my left hand harder just not to drop it at the sight of Jamie exiting the bathroom. A damp towel clings to the curves of her freckled body, revealing lines I've never knew were there, but more than glad to see now. Her cheeks are pink from steam, and drops of water run down her body. Her soaked red hair hangs down her back, sticking to her bare shoulders and the hollow of her neck. The sight makes it hard for me to breathe.

"Hmm?" Jamie hums, noticing me sitting on the kitchen counter. She usually changes in the bathroom when she showers, but I don't care enough to wonder why she's just now comfortable walking around in only a towel.

"Nothing." I lie, forgetting how to turn my head in another direction.

"What are you doing?" She asks, walking into the cramped kitchen, filling the small space with a sweet, mouth watering smell of cherries and ginger. This close I can see unfamiliar freckles on her wet body I've never seen before.

"Seeing how tight I can make my pants." I say half jokingly, half seriously. I have a bad urge to reach out and tug the towel, but I force my hands to clutch onto the mug for dear life. Jamie would punch me in nose, and I wouldn't blame her.

"You should eat cereal in a bowl, Riley." Her wet hand clasps over my scraped up hands, the contact nearly making me drop it. Straining to keep my eyes on her neck and up, I watch her pour my sugary Coco Puffs into a fresh bowl.

"Your bruises are fading." She points out, her wet hands gently cupping my face. I lean into the damp touch, the chill of her wet skin causing my skin to prickle with excited goosebumps.

"So, you're saying I'm getting more handsome." I joke. Jamie doesn't fluster like a teenager playing dumb, or try too hard by pouncing on me. Green eyes brightening with a flirtatious spark, her pink lips curve up into an inviting grin, the corners of her pink mouth tempting me to forget about my cereal, and push Jamie against the counter till there's no space between me and that wet towel.

"I got to go to work." Jamie easily dismisses, walking off to our room with that grin. My painfully stiff posture slacks with a tight inhale, falling against the cabinets, the cool wood pressing on the back of my neck helps me think about other things. I thought—maybe even hoped—that my absence away in New York would lessen my sexual attraction to Jamie. Like cold turkey. Though, at the time I didn't think I would come back to her. If anything I'm twice as more attracted to her. I'm twice as more aware of the space between us. Now my eyes—even bruised and a bit swollen—always immediately find the exposed spot of her freckled neck, the curved lines of her hips under her sweaters, the inviting corners of her mouth. The first thing I want to hear every morning is the sound of her voice. I look forward to her speaking her matured, yet spirited mind.

"Do you want me to bring you anything back from the bakery?" She considerably questions as she reappears dressed for her shift, her red hair still wet in a braid. All the exposed skin vanished as if they never appeared at all. Dressed conservatively like always, fabric to wrist, ankle and neck, Jamie manages to pull off jeans and a worn turtleneck. I never had someone who went out of their way to do little things like that for me. I never had some think of me. I never had someone forgive me. I never had someone try.

"Ugh, I'm not sure. Which one is your favorite? Inspire me."

"Anything with cherries." She answers, shoving on her shoes.

"I should have known you would like fruit dessert." I gag, pinching my nose like I smell rotten fruit. "Is it really a pasty if it has something healthy like fruit? Isn't that a lie?"