Bully stepbrother

33. Termination

MADISON

The first thing I did after draping myself in a towel was brush my teeth, gazing intently into the mirror, my thoughts beginning to wander until a voice snapped me back.

I turned to see Caden standing there. He must have been speaking for a while, but I had been too lost in thought to notice. Why had I left the door open?

"You're not seriously planning to use the bathroom now that I'm in here, are you?" I asked, adopting a defensive tone. You can never predict when he'll make a move.

His upper lip curled into an amused smirk.

"Am I invited?"

"No. Leave." Blushing and with my eyes rolling in mortification, I moved to close the door, ignoring his laughter and the thought he caused racing through my mind. Just as the door was nearly shut, his hand pressed flat against it, halting my effort.

Not now!

"Cad—" I began wearily, toothbrush still lodged in my mouth.

"Why do you have an electric toothbrush and use it alone in the bathroom?" he asked, his question momentarily throwing me off.

"Duh, to brush, obviously. In the proper place for it," I gestured to the foam filling my mouth.

Caden nodded, a crook smile tugging at the corners of his lips before suggestively biting his lower lip. He released the door and crossed his arms to his chest, his gaze laced with heinous flirting and suspicion.

Wait, what? Is he seriously thinking what I know he is thinking?

"I've heard it has... alternative uses," he shrugged, his smirk dripping with innuendo.

Ugh!

"Your mind is always in the gutter. Get out of here." Blushing, I shoved him while he laughed even more and finally shut the door, left alone with the ridiculous temptation to entertain his insinuation.

After five seconds of listening to the devil on my shoulder whispering, I finalized; absolutely not. My toothbrush has only one purpose and it is to go into my mouth.

As I stood under the warm stream of the shower, I tried to push away the painful reality. The reality that I would never truly understand Caden, that he wouldn't let me in, and the reality that I longed for him to do so, making me feel miserable and pathetic for caring.

Wrapping a medium-sized towel around my damp body, I spent extra moments drying my hair before stepping out of the bathroom.

The living room was vacant, just like the kitchen I passed through. Even the table was tidily arranged.

Strange.

Tightening the towel around my chest, a habitual gesture from growing up, I headed to my room.

And there he was again!

"What are you doing here?" I asked, puzzled, upon seeing him lying on my bed beneath the comforter.

I need to play it cool, even though I secretly enjoyed the sight of him on my bed, his bare, chiseled torso exposed. Those defined muscles, curving outward, showcased his physical prowess, and his alluring hair made it hard to look away.

The things I want to do with him... no! I don't.

"My bedroom door got jammed. I'll need a door doctor, but they're not available until Monday," he explained, realizing the weekend was approaching. A smirk played on his lips, and my skin tingled for his touch.

"I saw you leaving your room when I came in," I continued, maintaining my reasonable façade.

"Yes, the mishap occurred after I grabbed some clothes to take to the laundry room."