What if two academic rivals were forced to help each other in stead of hating each other.
The daughter of a defence lawyer and the son of criminal lawyer who plays dirty, their parents hate each other and well the apple doesn't fall far from the tr...
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Maeve's pov:
While he's in the shower I change into my pyjamas, which is just my dad's old high school shirt and some plaid pants.
I try to heat up the water very quietly for the heating pad.
There is an ointment cream in the cabinet of my bathroom that might also help.
I nervously chew on my lip thinking back to what I did, why the fuck did I involve myself.
I don't fucking regret it, no matter how much I should.
What if my dad finds out?
Or my mom?
Shit.
That would be a fucking disaster.
I should probably call her tomorrow and tell her I'll be staying with dad this week, that isn't going to go well.
I hear the shower stop and the shower door open, after a few minutes I hear the bathroom door open too.
I go back to my room and see him sitting on the floor with his back to the wall, his hair is wet with the curls dripping over his ears and his eyes glimmering in the light. I wonder if he got his looks from his mom, the only thing he resembles his dad in is hair colour.
I walk over to where the bathroom door is and get the ointment cream.
I hand him the heating pad "Pull up your shirt."
"Woah, not even dinner first."
"Oh, shut up Reid, you have bruises, I have ointments, lift your shirt, or don't I could always do it for you." I wink at him, obviously blushing and flustered he lifts his shirt over his head.
I have to swallow all the drool coming into my mouth, he's built like a Greek god, with a little less muscle but still, I can see his abs and tattoo, he has a tattoo, three actually.
A snake wrapped around a rose on his left bicep, a butterfly skull on his waist and another which I can't see clearly from this angle, it looks like line art of a bird. But I also notice the pink scars that follow his chest and over his shoulder.
I force myself to look away and notice his eyes searching mine for some sort of reaction.
God those fucking eyes, I swear there's something in those eyes that make me hallucinate, something is in them that makes me go insane.
"I like your tattoos," I say as I unscrew the cap of the ointment bottle.
"Is that what you were looking at?"
I chuckle "That and the fact that you have the sculpture of a Greek god."
He huffs out a breath "Wow, please, I think this is the second time you have said something nice to me today, keep it up and don't forget you still have 4 years of insults to make up for."
