Complications of Loving a Bad Boy

Chapter One

I don't know about you, but my idea of a good day at a hotel is being able to enjoy your time in the hotel room before having to actually find the way to wherever you need to go.

True, I was having a good time sitting by myself, watching reruns of Gossip Girl inside the small room of Hillside Hotel, but that's when I decided I wanted a shower.

I hadn't taken a shower for half a day, at least, and seeing how I was a hygiene freak, that was terrible. I needed my two showers per day, not even one was enough, so I stripped myself of clothing and slipped into the shower.

The time outside looked like it was four o' clock at the most, and that meant I had a measly hour to get dressed and head downstairs to the ballroom, where my sister's wedding was going to be held.

The temperature of the shower was below freezing, and while I warmed myself up by doing my daily shower exercises (hopping up and down like a constipated bunny) I mapped out what I'd wear and what shoes would go along with the dress.

After ten minutes of scrubbing, I figured I might as well dress up sooner or later, and so I hopped back out of the bathtub and into the bathroom.

It was bigger than most bathrooms (my parents had paid for the grand suite for me) so my stuff was spread out onto the counters all across the triple-sinks. In other words, my phone was sitting in the middle while my soap and makeup was littered on the rest of the space available.

It also meant I'd forgotten my clothes and my towel outside in the hotel room.

So, I threw open the bathroom door and scurried outside like a squirrel trying to find it's acorns. Other than the fact that I was trying to look for clothes, instead of acorns.

As if on cue, the door to the hotel room was thrown open, and the light streaming inside blinded me. I was standing in the middle of the room with nothing covering up my naked body, and I didn't know where I could hide until the door shut and left standing was a boy.

And not just any boy. It was freaking Cameron Collins.

He looked just as startled to see a completely naked girl standing puzzled in where he'd just walked in as I was to see him. Luckily, my reflexes acted (a little later than I'd liked) and I leaped behind the sofa cushions.

My head peeked out from behind, and I glared at him with the coldest eyes I could muster.

"Why do you look constipated?" I was snapped out of my own thoughts as the boy in the leather jacket peered at me with a curious expression.

"Why are you in my freaking room?" I snapped back, aware that my 'cold eyes' just made me look constipated, and that wasn't really helping.

"Excuse you," he said, making himself at home by throwing his stuff onto the bed, "But this is my room."

I gaped at him. "Leave my room right now! It's my sisters wedding, so I got a decent suite like this one; not you!"

Even I was quite astounded when the words tripped out of my own mouth before I could cover them up. Cameron just looked amused, which I found annoying.

Cameron shrugged. "Well, it's my room for now. And don't worry, I didn't see anything!"

"My ass you didn't," I replied, grabbing the towel from the coffee table without him perverting even more. "Liar."

"It's not like you look bad, anyway," Cameron said, and I could find the smirk forming on his precious face.

I'm pretty sure right then I looked like an over-ripe tomato, if not how my hands looked after cutting beet-root.