RoomHate Part 2

My breathing was ragged, but it was when I turned around that I nearly lost it.

Holy f.u.c.k.

CHAPTER 3.

Justin was standing in front of me, and I swear it was like the boy I'd left behind had been swallowed up by a lean ma.s.s of muscle. He just looked so different from what I remembered nine years ago. The anger on his face was transparent and somehow made him even more incredibly hot. It just would have been better if it weren't directed toward me.

His skin was a beautiful shade of bronze that complemented the natural golden streaks in his dark blond hair. The smooth face I remembered was now rough and unshaven. A rope and barb wire tattoo wrapped around his bicep. He was wearing camouflage cargo shorts with a tight white ribbed tank that hugged his chiseled chest.

An indeterminate amount of time pa.s.sed as I just took him in. Even though I was too stunned to say anything, my heart was screaming. I knew deep down my reaction wasn't just because of my physical attraction to him. It was because despite all of the changes, one thing had stayed exactly the same. His eyes. They reflected the same hurt that I remembered from the very last time I saw him.

His name finally managed to roll off my tongue. "Justin..."

"Amelia." The deep, throaty sound of his voice vibrated through me.

"I wasn't sure if you were ever going to show up."

"Why wouldn't I have?" he sneered.

"Well, I thought maybe you were avoiding me."

"You've overestimated your significance to me. Of course, I was going to come. This is half my house."

His words stung. "I didn't say it wasn't. It's just...I hadn't heard anything from you."

"Interesting how that goes."

Clearly uncomfortable with our sparring, Jade cleared her throat. "I was just asking Amelia if she wanted to have dinner with us tonight. Maybe you guys can catch up."

"Apparently, she already has plans."

I turned to him. "Why do you say that?"

"Oh, I don't know...because you're holding a bag that smells like dirty s.n.a.t.c.h?"

"It's fresh seafood."

"Doesn't smell very fresh to me."

"G.o.d. We haven't seen each other in nine years, and this is how you act?" I turned to Jade. "Is he always this rude?"

Before she could answer, he cracked, "I guess you bring it out in me."

"You think Nana would be happy right now with your att.i.tude? Something tells me she didn't leave us this house so that we could fight with each other."

"She left us both this house because we each meant something to her. That doesn't mean we have to mean anything to each other. Anyway, if you cared so much about what Mrs. H. thought, maybe you shouldn't have run away."

"That's a low blow."

"The truth hurts, I guess."

"I tried to contact you, Justin. I-"

"I'm not talking about this now, Amelia," he said, speaking through gritted teeth. "It's old news."

It was unnerving to hear him call me by my actual name. Aside from the very first day we'd met, he'd always called me Patch or Patchy. Hearing my name come out of his mouth felt like a slap in the face for some reason, like he was trying to emphasize how much we'd grown apart.

Justin went from hot to cold as he shut down, heading back outside to retrieve the groceries from his car but not before slamming the door behind him.

I shuddered, looking over at Jade whose eyeb.a.l.l.s were moving back and forth from side to side in confusion.

"Well, that was a nice start," I joked.

"I don't know what to say. I've never seen him act like that toward anyone to be honest. I'm really sorry."

"It's not your fault. Believe it or not, I probably deserve it."

The only thing worse than the rude reception he'd given me was his blatantly ignoring me during dinner and for the rest of that night. That hurt more than anything he could have ever said to me.

If I thought the evening was horrible, lack of sleep a.s.sured that the next morning was even worse.

Apparently, Justin found a way to take out his anger-by taking it out on Jade. Let's just say playing guitar wasn't the only talent he'd fully developed over time. Jade's moaning in the middle of the night as Justin pounded into her woke me up. The walls literally shook. It was impossible to go back to sleep after that. I tossed and turned, my thoughts alternating between rehas.h.i.+ng Justin's words to me from earlier to imagining what that scene in the other room actually looked like. Not that I really should have been thinking about the latter, but I couldn't seem to help myself.

It was 7AM, and the house was quiet, so I a.s.sumed they were both catching up on sleep after their s.e.xcapade. When I snuck downstairs to make some coffee, to my surprise, he was standing in the kitchen alone staring out of the s.p.a.cious window overlooking the water. Coffee was percolating. His back was toward me, so he hadn't seen me standing there yet.

I used the opportunity to admire his stature and the flawless skin of his defined, s.h.i.+rtless back. Black gym pants hugged his beautifully round a.s.s. I never realized how incredible his a.s.s was. My physical attraction to him really irked me under the circ.u.mstances, but that didn't stop me from checking him out. He had a rectangular-shaped tattoo in the middle of his back. Squinting, I unsuccessfully tried to figure out what it was. He startled me when he suddenly turned around and met me with an incendiary stare.

"Do you always ogle people when you think they can't see you?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "How did you know I was standing here?"

"I could see your reflection in the window, genius."

s.h.i.+t.

"You didn't even flinch. I didn't think you noticed me."

"Clearly."

"Are you trying to make me hate you or something? Because you're doing a pretty d.a.m.n good job."

Justin didn't answer my question. Instead, he just turned back around toward the window.

"Why do you do that?" I asked.

"Do what?"

"Say things to p.i.s.s me off then shut down?"

He continued to speak to the window, "Would you rather I just continue to p.i.s.s you off? I'm trying to get my anger in check with you, Amelia. You should be happy I know when to stop...unlike some people."

"Will you at least look at me when you're talking to me?"

He turned around and walked toward me slowly then leaned his face in. I could feel his words on my lips when he asked, "Is this better? You'd rather me in your face like this?"

I could practically taste his breath. My entire body felt weak from the close contact, so I backed away.

"I didn't think so," he snarled.

I walked over to the refrigerator and opened it, pretending to look for something. It annoyed me that my peaceful mornings were a thing of the past.

"You always get up this early?" I asked.

"I'm a morning person."

"I can see that...so bright and cheery," I said, sarcastically. "Some of us need sleep, though."

"I slept just fine last night."

"Oh, I know...after you traumatized me. You must have pa.s.sed out after all that s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g. Could you two have been any louder last night?"

"Well, excuse me. If I can't f.u.c.k in my own house where do you expect me to do it?"

"I didn't say you couldn't do it. Just be more respectful."

"Define respect."

"Doing it quietly."

"Sorry. I don't f.u.c.k quietly."

As much as I hated that answer, I somehow felt that those words would be repeating in my head later tonight.

"Forget it. Clearly, you don't know the meaning of respect."

"Respect you? Why...because you're not getting laid? Why don't you hook up with some salty dude down at the dock? Maybe then you won't care so much about other people's business."

"Salty dude?"

"Yeah. You know, the guys that live on the boats...the ones who sell you that nasty fish you were eating last night."

I just shook my head and rolled my eyes, refusing to dignify that comment with a response.

He surprised me when he suddenly lifted the carafe. "Want some coffee?"

"Now you're being nice?"

"No, I just figured you're sticking around for some reason. It must be the coffee."

"This is my kitchen."

He winked. "Our kitchen." Grabbing two mugs from the cabinet, he asked, "How do you take yours?"

"Cream and sugar."

"I'll take care of it while you go put on a bra."

I looked down at my b.o.o.bs which were hanging freely beneath my white t-s.h.i.+rt. Not expecting to run into him this early, I hadn't thought to put one on. Too embarra.s.sed to acknowledge the fact that he'd noticed, I went back to my room and got dressed.

When I returned, he was back at the window, drinking his coffee.

"Is this better?" I asked, referring to my dress.

He turned around and gave me a once over. "Define better. If better means I can't see your t.i.ts anymore...yes, it's better. If better, means you look better, that's debatable."

"What's wrong with this?"

"It looks like you sewed it yourself."

"Actually, it's from one of the shops on the island. It is handmade."

"Out of a potato sack?"

"I don't think so."

Maybe?

He snickered. "Your coffee's on the counter, Raggedy Ann."

My inclination was to try to come up with a comeback, but then I realized that was probably what he wanted. I needed to kill him with kindness instead of showing my anger.

"Thank you. That was nice of you to make it for me."

a.s.shole.

I took a sip and immediately spit it out. "What did you put in this? It's so strong!"

Instead of answering me, he just started to crack up. His laughter resonated through the kitchen, and as much as I hated that it was at my expense, it was the first time he'd laughed. It took me back in time for a moment and served as the only real reminder that the smoking hot a.s.shole in front of me used to be my best friend.