Signed /Dream Team/

65

We went back to the hotel. And the people at the lobby were very excited to see Anastasia with me. I forgot that I caused a scene hours ago when they couldn't give me information about the exact time Anastasia left the hotel.

The lady that I gave my number to in case Ana came back hurried towards us immediately, "Oh, you found her!" She exclaims, and I could tell she wasn't fully relieved by the sight of us together.

I could tell she was paying close attention to Ana's appearance and body language. They probably think I'm keeping her captive, and she manages to escape sometimes.

"Yeah, sorry for the disruption," I smile awkwardly, hopeful that the conversation will end on that. But it doesn't.

"Are you okay, sweetheart? Your boyfriend was very worried."

I bite my lip anxiously at her words. A faint memory of them asking me if I was her boyfriend and me saying yes under the pressure of the moment resurfaces, and I curse myself in my head.

"Who?" Ana narrows her eyes, hand still locked with mine in my pocket. I give it a light squeeze, hoping that she plays along and doesn't make me look like an actual kidnapper, "oh- him.. Ah, yeah, he's a very caring.. boyfriend."

That would be the least convinving thing I've heard if I hadn't heard George's excuses, but I get that it was the best she could do in a situation like this. However, the way the lady smiles and nods before finally letting us go gives me a hint of relief. 

"Why'd she assume we're dating?" Ana complains, "Just because we're holding hands?"

I hate that I'm hiding the truth from her, but it's also kinda funny, "People love to assume things," I speak with as much seriousness as I can put into my voice, and she continues complaining.

That was close.

We finally get to our room. After freezing in the streets the whole day, I'm in desperate need of a hot shower. Hot to the point where my skin sheds hopefully.

"I'm gonna shower," I announce, taking off my jacket, my hoodie, and deciding to keep the shirt on cause Ana's staring, "see you in an hour."

"What are you gonna do for an hour?" She does that thing when she takes her nail between her teeth and smiles playfully. I know she's not even trying, and it's a habit, but it's so attractive that I have to look away.

"Definitely not what you're implying to," I smile, shaking my head as she starts to giggle.

"Boring," she lies comfortably on the bed and grabs her phone, still looking at me with the corner of her eye. She's probably waiting for me to take off my shirt. Which I refuse to do.

She's definitely mad at George again. The only reason she's acting like this is because she doesn't know how else to express her frustration.

"I'll be back soon," I change my mind on the hour long shower, realizing that leaving her alone for an hour wasn't a great idea.

She smirks, not moving her gaze from her phone, and I leave the room as fast as I can before she does something sexy again.

May the hot water wash away any unholy thoughts and give me the strength to resist her till she's in the right state of mind.

I come out from the shower in a towel and regret it immediately. Even though she's still busy with her phone, I catch her looking at me with the corner of her eye and smirking. And she makes it obvious too, almost like she wants me to know.

I grab everything I need and go back to the bathroom to change. I'm actually scared to get in the bed with her. It's gonna happen again, and I'm gonna blame myself again.

I knew it.

I'm starting to read her so well. Not even a few minutes after I lie down next to her, she straddles me.

I put my hands on her thighs just to gain a little bit of control over the situation and not let her take it too far, but I can already feel the blood rushing to where she's positioned.

As she leans down, hovering over me, I dig my fingertips into her hips, which makes her stop.

"What did George say?" I look into her eyes and see her rolling them back.

"Nothing interesting," her voice is filled with tension, "why does it even matter."

She tries leaning down again, this time with a lot more frustration, but my fingers successfully stop her this time as well, "I want to know."

"Nothing happened," she sits up straight so roughly that her body weight centers right where it shouldn't, "he's just such a fucking bitch- I.. ugh I wanna punch him so bad."

The angrier she gets, the sharper her movements become on my lap. I suck in a breath, trying to pay attention to her words.

"He had the fucking nerve to tell me that he can't stop thinking about me," she completely removes her weight from her knees and slopes down onto my lap, "Like- three days ago he told me that he was pretending to like me!"

It's sad how I'm the one who was trying to get myself out of this situation and make her talk instead. I should pay more attention to her words.

But my body is screaming for help.

"It's like he tried every single trick in the book and was left with the most absurd one- when I tell you I was this close," she leans down and pinches the air, and my breath hitches at the sight of her nails, "this close to fucking choking him to death," when she puts her hand on my throat, close my eyes, swallowing hard against the weight of her palm.

"Sorry, I'm overly expressive," Anastasia finally removes her hand, and I look at her through my lashes. I can see so much anger and frustration on her face that I doubt she's even aware of what she's doing to me.

"It's okay-" I try my best to hide the fact that I'm heavy breathing.

"No, I almost choked you, it's not okay," she groans, taking in a breath just to continue where she left off, "he wanted to talk to you, by the way," she carelessly rolls her eyes, eyebrows still slightly pulled together, lips forming a pout, "but don't tell him I told you."

I nod, unable to form a sentence, and she sighs, fidgeting in her spot a bit before removing herself from my lap, "Thanks for listening. I feel much better."

Yeah. Listening.