gravity

sweaty skin

I ignore Niall's words. I should be expecting it from someone like him. I just thought he wasn't someone like that. I thought he had morals, reasons, but instead he has his selfish attitude that makes his personality ugly. 

After remembering I left my book up in my room I rode Gypsy back to the barn. Niall watched me as I jumped off of her and walked out of the barn without so much a second glance. I made my way to the house and slammed the patio door when I got there. 

"Chels?" My dad questioned at the kitchen island. 

"I'm fine," I lie to him and storm up the flight of stairs and into my bedroom. Just the thought of him made my blood boil. 

I had no intention of being close to him, but he kissed me first. He placed the idea in my head, I just didn't think he would be so cruel about it. 

Then again I guess I'm finally seeing the real Niall. The real him. 

I search for my book and can't find it anywhere. I turn over all the papers on my desk and remove all my dirty clothing from the hamper. I fling all the sheets off my bed and head to my closest. 

Where the hell did it go? Without finding it, I start to breathe heavily, my hair falling from its loose braid. 

I bring all my sheets back onto the bed and that's when I feel it at my toe. I pull the damn thing that was no doubt kicked under my bed. I push the loose fly-aways back off my forehead and finally realized I couldn't go back to the barn. 

I wanted to go to the hilltop but I would need Gypsy, well I wouldn't really, but I still have to walk by the barn. Maybe he's inside?

I cross my room and open the balcony doors. I step out onto it and sigh when I see the jerk himself. He's power-washing the barn; my dad being the clean freak he is probably offered him a double paycheck just for doing it. 

The sun is beating really hard onto his back and he wipes his arm over his forehead. Within a second he turns off the power-washer and peels his sweat-drenched shirt off of him. He lets it drop to the ground before he picks up the washer again and continues. 

His back muscles move with every curve, turn, and lift he takes. His skin basically glistened underneath the sunlight. I needed to look away, so I slowly started to back up and inside of entering my bedroom, my back hits the pale yellow siding of the house. I don't turn away though and inside let my back slide down the siding. 

I watch him through the white columns of the railing. Every time he flexes his muscles to reach a new area of the barn my fingernails dig into the paper mache cover of my sketchbook. I finally dig far enough the tip of my index finger nails bends inwards causing me to pull back. 

I hit reality and it hits hard as I notice what I'm doing. I'm watching him like some stalker. 

"Ugh," I groan with my thoughts and I throw my sketchbook inside and like a child crawl back into my bedroom. I lean against my bed, still sitting on the floor. I pull my knees up to me, gently biting down at my broken fingernail. I stare at my sketchbook wanting to do what my thoughts were pursuing me to do. 

What if he sees? 

What? He'll never see. He doesn't have time for you anyways, remember? 

I reach forward and pick up my sketchbook. It opens to where my pencil in buried. The paper is filled with an unfinished picture of my mom. Same old. 

I turn the page. I let my mind take over. 

. . . Niall . . .

"Here's the key for the barn," I tell James as I enter the house. My shirt finally dried from all the sweat I produced in that bloody heat and finally was wearable again. 

"Thanks, Niall," said James as he took the key and placed it on a hook. I was in his office. He instructed me to come into his office every morning to get the key and bring it back when I was done. "I've actually come up with a log book."

"What?" I ask him, not really wanting another duty. 

"I'm leaving Napa for a day," he continues. 

"What?" I question again.

"Yes, and I need you write down the time you take the key and the time you bring it back. Don't take it as I don't trust you--."

"Well that's what you're making it seem," I interrupt him. 

"I do trust you and frankly I don't know why, not after I saw you with Chelsea."

Fuck. 

I pull my fingers through my hair like I always do when I'm caught in a nervous situation. Or in this case, just caught. 

"That--That was an accident," I tell him.

"I don't care," he starts as he sits back down at his desk. "Just remember that she is my daughter. She's only seventeen...."

I stop listening after he said 'seventeen'. Seventeen? She's not even old enough to drink back home. She's not even old enough to be touched, ugh. Why does it always lead to that? She's not legal, get over it. Stop making such a big thing about it. 

Who cares? 

I didn't want to a have a relationship and especially not with that underaged nuisance. 

"...I leave tomorrow morning at five for San Diego," he continues when I finally catch up with him. "I should be back before midnight but I'm not sure. This wine testing is something I wait all year for. So will you remember to do it?"

"What?" I think back before I nod. "Yeah, sure. Will your office be open?"

"Yes," he says. "Please don't destroy it though and make sure you don't drag mud through here."

"Fine." Nothing beats an over-cleaned boss. 

{A/N: please like and favorite! love you all but I'm not sure if I should continue. hmmm, any thoughts?}