Comminication Skills

Or Should I Call You Kensi?

The next morning, I woke around nine to an empty bed. I heard humming and the sound of the shower from the bathroom. The door was open, and Deeks was in the shower. I listened while he sang to himself. He sings in the shower? That’s absolutely adorable.

            I stood up and walked into the bathroom, my feet falling silently on the soft carpet floor. “Morning, Deeks,” I yawned, grabbing my toothbrush.

            “Morning, Kens!” He popped his head out of the shower around the curtain. “Wanna join me?”

            “Henri,” I groaned, although the idea was very appealing.

            “What? Just playing the part of the husband, Babe,” he laughed, disappearing back into the shower.     

            I picked up his towel from the rack and tossed it over the shower railing into the shower. “Have fun with a soaking towel,” I teased him, brushing my teeth. I raked a brush through my hair and then walked away.

            “That’s not nice!” he called to me. “Kensi! Kens?”

            I shed my clothes and changed into some very-skimpy shorts. Thanks so much, Hetty, I thought sarcastically. I pulled a V-neck shirt over my head, not noticing how low it hung. Then I hopped down the stairs to make breakfast.

            “Breakfast” turned out to be a Twinkie and a glass of milk, but at least I got some calcium.

            Deeks came down the stairs, soaking wet, with a soaked towel around his waist and nothing else on. I breathed in sharply and busied myself washing the few dishes he hadn’t gotten to last night. I was very aware of him standing practically a foot away from me and I turned slowly, holding my breath.

            What he did next was unexpected. He hugged my tightly, soaking me. I shrieked and punched his bare stomach, effectively pushing him away. “What the hell?” I demanded, wringing out the hem of my shirt with my hands.

            He smiled my favorite smile. “Payback’s a bitch,” he replied, walking away. I huffed out a sigh and followed him upstairs.

            “Thanks so much!” I said sarcastically. “Now I have to change.”

            “I’m the one that had a soaked towel,” he argued.

            “And whose fault was that? If you weren’t such a pervert, then maybe I wouldn’t have had to do that.”

            I pulled off my shirt when I got into the closet. Deeks was in the bathroom, presumably changing. I let my shorts fall to the ground.

            “Maybe I should’ve soaked a different shirt,” I heard him muse from where I stood in the closet, pulling a white tank top over my head. “I liked that one.”

            I picked up the shirt he had soaked from the ground and looked at it. “No wonder, it’s very, very revealing!” I yelled to him.

            I put on a different pair of shorts and went out into the bedroom. He was shirtless in the bathroom, but wearing pants. I went into the bathroom and sat down on the toilet seat.

            “So, we have all day. What should we do?” he asked me, glancing in my direction. “Hey, honey, my eyes are up here.”

            I snapped my eyes from his chest to his face and gave him my best what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about look. He gave me his best I-saw-you-staring look and I rolled my eyes at him. “I was thinking we go spontaneously stop by peoples’ houses and be friendly.”