What It's Like Loving an Idiot

Twenty One || Harder

By the time we get to the lake house, it is getting close to dinner time, but since James' parents aren't going to be here until much later we're going to have to figure something out. Maybe I'll just order some pizza. It's quick and painless and I won't have to do anything except call the number.

James is upstairs unpacking his things and whatever else; I've got no clue to be honest.

I call the closest pizza place that is open and order. Ugh. Now I have to wait for the food. What kind of world am I living in?

I've been driving all day and I just want a pizza and I really don't want to wait. I'm tired but I think I just need to sleep.

I start walking around the main floor, silently taking in the space. It's beautiful. This isn't a cabin. This is a bloody full house.

Damn.

The kitchen has big counters that are made purely out of marble and there are so many cupboards that they could never run out of space. There is an island in the center with four leather bar stools that stand underneath. In the living room, there is a fireplace and a big leather couch sitting in front of it. The TV is planted into the wall above the fireplace and little plants in pots on the ledge. The wide view of the sun going down shines; the orange and yellow colors through the big windows.

"Vena!" James yells for me from somewhere upstairs.

"Yes?" I shout back.

He doesn't respond. Does he think he's my mother? Only my mother can get away with that. He's dumb if he thinks that's going to work.

I climb up that stairs, holding onto the railing.

Once I reach the top, I feel the difference of hardwood to carpet against my feet. I walk over to the room where we'd be staying, which is apparently is James' usual bedroom. It's big. It's got a big bed, most likely a king size, and wardrobe. When I open the wardrobe for the first time it is packed full of his clothes and they are perfectly folded too. I open up the bedroom door and James is standing there shirtless, his eyebrows furrowed, like he's trying to figure something out.

I suddenly forget what I was going to scold him for. I look him up and down once again and my eyes stop at his chest.

"Vena? Hello? Is anyone in there?"

I shake my head as my eyes tune into his hand that is waving in my face.

"What?" I ask. Was he actually talking to me?

Oops.

"I'm trying to find my sweatshirt; did you bring it by chance?" he asks.

I walk over to my suitcase and open it while it's on the ground, as I am incapable of pulling it onto the giant bed. "I think that I remember seeing it, but I can't quite remember." I move other things around, looking for his sweater.

I pull it out once I spot it. I flip the cover of my suitcase over and turn and look at him with the sweater in my hand.

He goes to reach for it, but I pull it back behind me so he can't.

He raises an eyebrow at me, "What are you doing?" he asks.

"Just wait, let me look at you." I smile and stare at him for a moment more.

"Why?" he asks, a smirk slowly appearing on his mouth.

I step towards him and can't help but run my hands down his abdomen and back up to his chest. I feel as my heart starts to beat faster. I look up at him and he got this mischievous look on his face.

I raise an eyebrow at him and he moves away from me and moves over to the bed on the crutches.

I follow him and cross my arms over my chest as I look at him. I know what he wants. I smile at the thought, but none of us are in any shape to be doing that, the doctor even said so.