36

OLIVIA

I hear the door to the bathroom creak open, I turn my head in that direction.

Aiden comes out, water dripping from his hands. He grabs a hand towel, and begins to dry them off.

He strolls to the mirror, gazing in it. I can't help but follow his movements with my eyes, taking in the sight of his chest, the droplets of water clinging from his skin. Obviously, he has taken a shower after finishing with me.

My cheeks turn pink. What's wrong with me? Why should that thought make my cheeks flush?

Aiden's hair is wet, the black strands hanging in damp curls around his face. I don't know why I have the sudden urge to run my hands through his hair, to feel the wetness.

How does damp hair look good on him? It looks so good. Everything just seems to fit perfectly.

I should probably take a shower too, but the idea of getting out of bed seems like something I can't do now. My limbs feel heavy.

It is already 7pm. I need to get home, but I can't even bring myself to move. All I want to do