I Hate Love✅

24. Just Friends

"What the hell are you doing in here!" she screamed at him, throwing the other towel she held in her hand.

He chuckled and caught the towel.

"I think you need your towel...to cover up."

"Why? You've seen everything."

"True dat."

She rolled her eyes at him and grabbed her robe and slipped it on, tying it closed tight.

"I'll ask you again, what are you doing here, in my room?"

"Actually, I think this is my room, I have lived in this room since I was..."

"You know what the hell I mean. You don't live here anymore. Shouldn't you be at work or something?"

"Nope." He sat on her bed, and laid back on it, looking comfortable. "I'm off work at the moment."

"Unemployed you mean. You have time to lounge around here...lounge around the pool..."

He looked up and smirked at her. "You think that low of me?"

"I don't know you well enough to think of you at all." She stood at the dresser, trying to decide if she wanted to shoo him away or if she liked his company. She couldn't let him know that she liked having him here.

"I think you know me well, sis."

"Don't call me that!"

"I heard you singing in the shower, sounded good sis."

She threw her comb at him.

"A'ight, a'ight, let me keep the peace."

"No, seriously, why are you home in the middle of the day on a weekday? You have a job?"

"Yes, I do have a job. I'm a teacher. I start back up in a few weeks."

He did not look like any teacher she ever had. He was so young. Looking that damn good in class, her fast ass would have failed day one.

"I teach middle school history."

So he was a nerd. He studied history. That was boring.

"Your mom helped me a lot to get me through college. I kind of was a wild child for a minute, but she was always in my corner, holding me down."

She turned to him, trying not to stare too hard at his perfect face. "Tell me, if you don't mind. Where is your real mother?"

"Passed away."

Oh damn, another person she knew lost a parent so young. She was sorry she asked.

"We were living in a rough neighborhood. Bullets come flying through a window don't know a name. Got my mother in her sleep."

"Damn!" She went over and sat by him.

"I remember clearly. I was seven. My father was in bed with her. Real fucked up stuff."

She wanted to touch him, rub his face, soothe him, comfort him, but she held back. It felt so weird, after all the things they had already done to each other. Now she felt like she didn't know him. Well, in fact, she didn't know him, She did not even know his name when they fucked each other's brains out.

She still knew less than nothing about him. A stranger.

"I didn't remember my mom at all. I was too young when she gave me away. I always felt like I felt her, you know, watching over me or something." She looked down at her hands. "I thought she was dead. I wanted her to be, then that would explain why she never came to get me."