𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐩𝐬 ✓

4

Waking up to sunlight peeking through the curtains and flooding the room, I groggily rub the sleep out of my eyes and glance around. Even with the sunlight, it seems darker than the one I briefly explored in my new apartment. I quickly realize that the room isn't shrouded in darkness and that it is actually the paint on the walls that is dark. The walls of my new room are white, I know that for sure, and these are grey.

I continue to dart my eyes around, quickly gathering that it is probably a male's bedroom, with posters of famous soccer players on the wall, and a giant flat screen tv mounted on the wall across from the bed. Trophies and medals also decorate the room but I don't look closely enough to be impressed. I attempt to sit up in bed. Attempt being the keyword.

A weight that I didn't notice before seems to be pressing me back into the bed, I lean up slightly, turning my head to the side and holding my breath when I see the figure lying next to me in the bed. A boy's, no, a man's back stares up at me with an equally muscular arm ―the source of my struggle―draped across my stomach.

The guy next to me has fair skin, broad shoulders, light blond hair, and an extremely mouth-watering back. The sheet on him is draped low across his waist, no doubt covering his naked body if his state of undress has anything in common with mine.

Slightly panicking, I quickly replace my body with a pillow on the bed and look down at the stranger to see him lightly shift before resting once again. Chase. That was his name. I breathe a sigh, noticing that my clothes have been strewn across the floor and not throughout the house, and by clothes, I mean a bikini and a pair of short denim shorts.

I slept with him, that much is obvious. Thinking to myself as I gather my things, I plan a hasty exit and a minimally embarrassing walk-of-shame. I'll need to cab back home because he drove. Why did I let him drive? I groan quietly in frustration.

I put my "outfit" from last night back on, ignoring the pain between my thighs, and grab a very large white t-shirt from the floor with a scent that brings back memories of the night before. Quickly slipping the shirt on over my head, no longer lingering on the scent of freshly cut grass and pine. Tying a knot in the front so that it doesn't drop to above my knees, I blush to myself at the reminder and spare one last look at his sleeping face before slipping out of the door as quietly as possible.

Gathering my messy hair into a ponytail at the top of my head just outside his closed door, I begin to make my way down the hall and creep down the stairs. Attempting to suppress memories of the heated make-out session that Chase and I had against them. I can't help slow my steps as I admire the chandelier and the way that the crystals catch the light that drifts in from the multitude of windows. My bare feet meet the cold marble floors at the bottom of the staircase and as I wander towards the front door, I hear three distinct voices coming from the opposite direction. I follow them.

Emerging into an open kitchen, modern and filled with stainless steel appliances, I halt at the sight of three pairs of eyes connected to three tall, handsome men that happen to not be wearing shirts. All of them happen to be looking right at me. I bite my chapped lips.

The first of the three looks away, but not before slightly scanning my body, lingering on my legs. He's very tall, taller than most guys I've met and probably around 6'6. He is lean with muscle, but has broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and he looks like he is a runner or a swimmer. The thick-framed glasses on his face make his height a lot less intimidating. He definitely appears to be the friendliest with his bright smile, tan skin, and slightly curly brown hair.

The second blatantly checks me out with a cocky smirk on his face. This one is impossible to miss with the tattoos that cover his bare chest and arms. He's slightly shorter than the other guy, but not short by any means. This guy is huge, most likely a boxer if I were to guess by his dominating figure. His hair is midnight black and he has the worst case of resting bitch face I've ever seen, but lord is he attractive.

The third barely pays any attention to me, focusing on the bowl of cereal in front of him, but when we make eye contact he quirks a small smile. I can't tell just how tall he is from his seat at the counter, but if I were to guess, I'd say he's in between the other two in height. His skin is the darkest, warmest brown color I've ever seen; I can't help but admire him. His hair is short but coiled, and he has an athletic build like the other two. As my eyes drift down to the floor, I notice his flashy shoes, unmistakably Jordan 1's that are identical to my favorite pair which makes me smile.

"Good morning sweetheart, rough night?" Tattoos speaks up while continuing his search of my body for god knows what. The first one, the friendly-looking one, laughs before covering it up with a cough.

"No, it was fine," I say while inspecting my fingernails as if there was something to interest me painted on them. "Would one of you call me a cab? My phone is dead." I trail off.

"I'll just drive you, I'm on my way out anyway." says Glasses. Thank god, he doesn't make me feel like a freaking circus attraction. As he throws on a shirt that he grabs off of the counter, I turn around to follow him and he leads me out of the house after waving to Jordans, completely ignoring Tattoos.

As I'm stepping out the door I hear Tattoos yell "Come back soon!"  and I roll my eyes.

"Don't worry about him, he's an ass. So, you got a name?"

"I do, do you?" I challenge him.

"I'm Reece, and don't worry, I won't tell the guys your name." Deciding I can trust him, I tell him.

"Lexi"

"Suits you, so, where am I going?" Laughing, I give him the address to the apartment which is actually really close to the house that we just came from. We pull into the parking lot and I get out of his Jeep, saying a quick "thank you".

"See you around". He waves and drives off and I wait until Reece is gone to finally head into the apartments. I stop in front of the door before realizing that I don't have keys; the house keys are attached to my car's and Faye took them with her last night.

So I knock.

Once. Twice. Three times, before I hear shuffling feet on the other side of the door. A sleepy-looking Faye throws open the door with a frosty glare before a look of realization passes across her face. She then grabs my arm, yanks me inside, throws the door shut, and drags me over to the couch with a wide, knowing smile playing on her red-stained lips.