Hi lovelies! I appreciate y'all sticking with me through my absence. You're all awesome
Thanks so much to all of those who read and responded to last chapter,
it's like a shot of insta-motivation. Except not really, cause I hate needles, and reviews are awesome.
Screw analogies. Here's your chapter. Enjoy! xoxo
"TOWELS!" he shouted victoriously.
"Praise the lord,"
"White or purple?" he asked.
"Surprise me," and a few seconds later, his hand sprung through the curtain, a white fluffy towel in hand.
I quickly secured it around my chest and under my armpits and stepped out of the tub. Holy good God damn. This man was carved by Michelangelo. Penny colored hair was a mess of uncontrolled waves and curls on top of his head, further down a pair of striking green eyes that glimmered with life, down from that- jawporn. Broad shoulders led to arms somewhere between toned and bulging. His chest was wrapped in a faded Lucky Brand logo tee, legs clad in jeans, and feet in a pair of black laceless canvas sneakers. Was I drooling?
"Hi," he grinned. Fuck. Really? All those stereotypes I had about British people having bad teeth? Butchered and burned. Did I just see a sparkle?
Across The Country
So, I may have rushed Edward out of my apartment after that. Although, I'd say I had a valid enough excuse; I was currently wearing a towel, not exactly the most appropriate ensemble for having guests over. And, for the record, the towel did have something to do with why I kicked his butt out so quick. It was entirely too removable. I was a straight forward girl, but pulling a Bend & Snap ass-naked after a towel that I accidentally-on-purpose dropped to the ground was pushing it a little.
I rolled my eyes and padded down the hall to my bedroom where I'd already unpacked most of my clothes after I'd sent Emmett on his merry way with Hot Rosalie. Quickly throwing on a bra and some underwear, I flipped over and twisted my hair up in the towel I was previously wearing.
I pulled my faded black muscle tee that read "I'm not sorry" in white letters inside a thinly lined heart off it's hanger, and reached up on the shelf for the first pair of pants I could grab- dark army green skinny cargo trousers. I shrugged. It sorta matched. I put the clothes on, and had just fastened the button of my pants when there was a quick, pounding succession of knocks on the door, then, again, the same noise filled my apartment three seconds later when I didn't immediately answer the door. I scoffed, and pulled the towel of my head, throwing it across the bed.
"Emmett! Calm yourself before you knock the damn door down!" I shouted, walking into the hall.
I pulled open the door a few moments later to reveal a smirking Edward standing next to a sheepish Emmett. Edward spoke first, "You look good with clothes on, Bella." Emmett smacked him. I tried to keep the girlish, inane expression that threatened to split my face in two with it's pathetic wide grin, under-wraps.
"Jesus, Em. Don't hit him just because your stupid ass sent him into the wrong apartment," I said, and he looked to the floor, easily scolded. I rolled my eyes, walking away from the open door.
"Don't look so butt-hurt. Y'all comin' in?"
"Listen, I'm sorry, Bella-" I turned to walk backwards and looked down to my shirt, grinning. Edward chuckled.
"It's all good, buddy. How was Hot Rosalie?" they followed me in, Edward kicking the door shut behind him.
"Hot," Emmett replied, his previous abashed disposition long forgotten, and a smirk painted on his face.
"Shocking. Mind divulging a few more details?" I asked, plopping myself down on the couch, falling onto my back, my legs hanging over the arm.
"She's really hot," he said, sitting down next to where my head rested on the cushion.
"You're an ass," I told him, matter-o-factly.
"Aw, your nose crinkles when your pissy," he cooed, pinching my cheek. I pulled up one of the pillows my butt was on and smacked him in the face with it, then pulled my weight up back over the couch arm and onto my feet.
"I'm supposed to live next to this?" I asked Edward incredulously, pointing an irritated finger in Emmett's direction.
"Don't worry, love, he grows on you after a while," he said, leaning on the wall across from the couch.
"Like a boil... Wait, you had the unfortunate experience of living next to this beefhead?"
"I lived with that beefhead," he winked.
Emmett raised his hands in the air, "Maybe I'm being sensitive, but I'm feeling a little hate over here."
"You guys lived together?"
"Foreign Exchange Program," they explained in unison.
"Got it," I said, sticking a thumb up, then, a few seconds later, "Who'd you exchange?"
"My little sister Jessica," Emmett said.
"That must of been a relief,"
"It was," Emmett nodded.
"I meant for your little sister,"
Emmett and I continued our hate-fest to the point of a quick delivered war of facetious "yo mammas so fat-" and other entirely baseless jokes, until I said, "Yo momma's so fat, when she sat on the beach, Greenpeace threw her in." Edward bent over at the waist, his back against the wall, and guffawed loudly, his hand coming up in attempt to muffle his laughter. Emmett, on the other hand, looked between us, the expression on his face growing confused.
"I don't get it,"
"I'd explain it to you, but I don't have any crayons with me."
If you didn't get the joke, like Emmett, I'll explain it to you in a review reply ;)