Said you're running red lights
At 85 and getting closer
A kiss at the door, ended up on the floor
Ain't too sure what hurts more
That you didn't or that I dreamed you did…
I hid a sudden yawn behind a hand, and a final strum echoed against the peaceful silence in the room as Gallan stopped playing the guitar and placed it on the floor next to his bed.
“You need sleep,” he stated the obvious.
I raised a brow at him. “How observing of you,boyfriend,” I teased.
He chuckled. “Come on; get up. Let me find you something to wear.”
I clicked my tongue and crawled away from him – because I’m a lazy piece of poop and didn’t have the energy to do the sexy ‘Getting out of bed’ kinda thing those Hollywood actresses did to seduce their wax-like, lollipop-rivaling, cut-to-perfection love interests.
My ass was the Mother of Tardiness, and even though my guy was wax-like, lollipop-rivaling, cut-to-perfection and all that good stuff, I didn’t wanna turn into a Hollywood seductress for him.
Because that wasn’t me…
Nuh-fucking-uh.
Not that Gallan wanted me to change or anything.
“What makes you think you have something in your closet that’ll fit me?” I asked.
He gave me a ‘Hushit’look before opening his walk-in closet.
He rummaged through some piles of clothing, and then turned to me with a smirk. “Take this.” He threw a hoodie at me. “You’re gonna rock it, I know that for a fact.”
I bit my bottom lip and looked at the soft charcoal hoodie in front of me. It had Gallan’s clothing-line,Under the Woods’logo printed at its center, and when I grabbed it and hugged it to my chest, I could smell his fading cologne on it. I refrained from moaning, and finally got off the bed before walking over to him.
“A little privacy, please?”
He put his tongue to his cheek as he grinned, and grabbed a random pair of sweats and tee from the closet before heading towards the attached bathroom and shutting the door once he was inside.
I placed the hoodie on a hook next to the full-length mirror inside the closet, took off my turtleneck and jeans, and pushed my saggy girls up because…why not, right?
I tightened my bra straps, fixed my underwear, and then finally put on Gallan’s hoodie. To my utter surprise, it fit amazingly well; it even complemented my various curves. Its soft sleeves covered most of my hands. I placed one of it under my nose and inhaled, and sighed when Gallan’s addicting and heady smell hit my senses.
The hoodie was long enough to skim the top of my knees, but it clearly left my legs open for viewing. I felt vulnerable, if only a little. I didn’t have legs-for-days, no; I had short, chubby ones, and I feared how I’d look in Gallan’s eyes.
I pushed the hoodie down my knees in an attempt to hide my legs, but of course, it didn’t work. With a sigh, I gave up and hooked my t-shirt and jeans next to the mirror, grabbed a rubber band from my jeans pocket, and pulled my hair up in a loose overhead bun. I leaned closer to the mirror and gently rubbed my hands over my face before checking my teeth. Too late for the latter, yes, but the confirmation of them being clean was a welcome relief nonetheless.
Just as I walked out of the closet, the bathroom door opened, and Gallan stepped out of it wearing a bottle-green tank top over ink-black sweats.
“Hey,” he said, and then pushed his fallen hair back as he ran his eyes over me. “Damn, babe; you look irresistible.” He dimmed the lights in the room, and the muscles on his biceps ping-ponged with each movement of his arm.
Christ, Gallan really was wax-like, lollipop-rivaling, and cut-to-perfection.
Of the best kind.
I shuffled on my feet and wringed my fingers together as I watched his pupils flare. “It fits perfectly, the hoodie,” I managed to say, and then pulled the hem of the hoodie downwards.
It didn’t work.AGAIN.
