Dear Diary, it wasn't love

18

Dear diary,

I quietly turn my head to ensure that Ryder's still asleep beside me, before slowly unwinding myself from his hold and slipping out of bed. It's only ten-in-the-morning and a weekend no-less, but I have no intention to stay in bed any longer than I already have.

After leaving the bathroom, I quietly tip-toe further into the bedroom to check on him. I notice that he hasn't moved even an inch. With the towel wrapped around me, I turn to make my way back but freeze when I hear his weight shift up from the bed.

"I've been awake the entire time. Your bathroom doesn't have a door separating it from your bedroom, you know. I just spent the best ten-minutes watching you shower. Rich people, right? Just get a damn door."

I embarrassingly turn to give him my attention and watch as he ever-so-casually gets out of bed and walks toward me.

Sporting a major erection.

I try my best to avert my eyes from his boxers, but we both know that I've already given it my undivided attention.

I clear my throat and focus my eyes behind him rather than on him any longer.

"Do you want me to get you a robe...or give you some privacy..." I try my best not to blush.

"Were you not listening when I told you I saw you shower?" He smirks and walks towards me and kisses me on the forehead.

A rather simple act of endearment, but one that speaks extraordinary measures coming from someone like Ryder.

"Right. A naked and wet girl will do it every time, right?"

"Not always the case. You, on the other hand. Yeah, pretty much."

"You are not getting lucky again. I need time to heal," I joke.

"I have something to remedy that."

"Oh, I'm sure." I roll my eyes and follow him into the bathroom.

"Showering without me? I promise not to be so boring the same the next time that we do this," he tells me before running the water.

"I didn't want to wake you. I imagine that you'd prefer to sleep-in on a Sunday morning. Tell me I'm wrong," I glare at him in amusement.

"Definitely not wrong, but when said cause to wake up is a naked you, I vote a wake-up call every damn morning," he smirks.

Doing my best to ignore the dangerously sexy, naked and wet man in my shower, I walk into my closet and pull on a pair of yoga pants and a loose crewneck.

"You should get back in here and let me wash you off properly!" I hear him sing-song over the harsh water pressure.

The only reason I allow myself to smile is because I know that he can't see me right now.

Choosing to ignore him, I make my way back into the bathroom and sit down at my vanity and pretend to play out my morning routine; when in reality, I just want another excuse to peak over at him every now and then.

From the large-stretched mirror, I can see that his erection has finally died down, but it does nothing to relieve his size. I don't know why I'm acting as if this is the first time that I've ever seen him naked, but I'm trying my best not to get used to the idea.

It would suck to get used to it, just to be let down in the future.

"If you continue to eye-fuck me, I'm going to have to get out of here dripping wet and bend you over the counter so that you can watch yourself come as you scream my name."