Faster Than Your Bullets

Chapter 24

Chapter 24

                   

This thing must stop.

I mean, how many times are we gonna do this until Scarlett finds out?

Shoot. That makes me sound like a slut.

The bedroom party last night somehow got itself into Peter's car and relocated in my bedroom at around somewhere between 1:37AM and 4:23AM. From then it seemed to be pretty sexually messy. The proof is that I woke up two minutes around with used condoms lying around in my room. The first five minutes of my morning is devoted to cringing, yawning, and cursing because I was so late for work. Following that are two minutes of pure terror when I called in the office and inform Jane I've caught a bad cold. Yes, in the strangely hot weather these few days, Jane. Right, but what can I do, right, Jane? Change of weather. Okay, I guess I'd go and eat now, bye Jane. Of course I'll tell Peter that, Jane. Bye, Jane.

It was a right choice to not tell her that Peter is snoring almost naked some inches away from me.

Hovering over his torso, I tap his shoulder and whisper.

"Pete, wake up."

He doesn't budge.

"Rise and shine, Bradley."

No.

"Dude, wakey wakey." I coo again. Peter lets out a low whine.

"Can't go faster, babe." Slurred words come jumbling out of his lips. Dreaming about sex. Typical.

With irritation starting to well up inside, I get out of bed and tip toe to the bathroom, get a full bucket of the coldest water I can get from the tap and walk back, spill some water on the way and almost trip over that very puddle of water. Can't really call it Karma since I haven't done the evil deed yet.

It takes some efforts to lift the bucket above Peter's head, but almost nothing to dump its content on him.

The chain reaction starts almost immediately. The cold liquid splashes against his skin, his lips part the half of the second later and his eyes shoot open a full second after it. It also does not take long for him to develop a shriek. Halfway through the shriek he rolls over on the bed while I do the same on the floor, stomach contracting because of hysteric laughing. Sure, I am mad at him, but nothing really decreases the hilarity of someone being poured cold water on in order to wake up.

"What the fuck?" is the first sentence that comes after the shriek, not sounding much different. "What the hell did I do?" Then he looks down to his boxer and my undies and realization seems to kick in. Takes him long enough. I throw him a look and snort. It's a strange thing that he still has his boxers on, since the weirdo prefers nude sleeping.

"Oh, no." Peter shakes his head and mutters something under his breath with bitterness shown on his ugly frown. I stride across the room, pick up my clothes and put them back on. He does the same while still frowning.

We resolve to a silent code until breakfast. Peter comes out of the shower topless with a folded towel slung over his shoulder, covering one third of his torso. I cannot help smirking.

"My boss said hi."

His nose scrunches. "Not that woman again."

"She's actually pretty nice." There's not just an elephant in the room, but maybe the whole herd is crammed here, sparing just enough space for the two of us and the bullshit we're trying to make up to avoid the subject.

"So," I huff after my third time swallowing down my pancake, "should this be a secret?"

Peter's eyes dart to a side, as if seeking for the help that isn't there, before finally returning to meet mine after some long seconds.