I Hate You

12. "am I distracting you?"

Work, work and more work. Anything to distract me from my current mixed emotions.

I've been trying to avoid Brandon as much as possible after what happened but needless to say, he's acting as if nothing did. He's back to his annoying flirty self. It's strange because usually, his obvious attempts to hit on me have no effect on me, but this time, it's different.

I was currently at Max's place taking a break from all the editing I've been doing. The engagement party is this weekend and I'm finding it a lot more difficult to concentrate at work because my thoughts keep getting in the way. I've been thinking about Brandon a lot more than I ever have. More than I would like to admit. About the way he brushes his hand through his dark brown hair. The way his jaw clenches when he's concentrating. The way his jeans fit him very tightly around his–

"Jess? Are you listening?".

"Huh?" I ask coming out of my daydream.

"What were you thinking about?" Max grins as if she already knows. "Nothing," I say.

"Mmhmm," she smirks. "Hopping aboard the Brandon express tonight?"

"Okay, you really need to stop saying that," I say sternly, resisting the urge to laugh. "Is that what's on your mind?" She swiftly tosses a grape into the air and catches it with her mouth. An impressive skill that she has which I could never manage to successfully achieve.

"No." I lie.

"Okay, whatever you say. But we gotta get you ready, otherwise, you'll be late."

I was supposed to be at his place by 7:00 pm to work on some files together. "It's only 7:04," I say. "He's always late he can wait a few more minutes for me."

Eventually I manage to get off of Max's couch and hop into my car to meet him. I was worried about going to his place for many reasons so I was doing everything I possibly could to stall a bit longer. Mainly because I was worried about what might happen if we were alone at his place together.

I knock on his house door. He lived in a small bungalow in a neighborhood with a name that was a bit too complicated to remember. He opened the door shirtless, wearing only a pair of some grey sweatpants. "Come on in," he smiled but my eyes were drawn to his sweats that were hanging just low enough to reveal his v-line.

I walked inside the house and sat down on his couch feeling slightly disoriented. I wasn't even trying to think about how his hair was a perfect mess and the way his abs and muscles were exposed–

"Jess? Did you hear me?" he asked. "What?" I gulped. "Am I distracting you?"

"What? No." I say but it comes out sounding uncertain. "Should I put on a shirt?".

"Stop it would you?" I say. "Okay, so do you want a drink or not?" he asks. "Uh sure, water is fine. A tall glass of water please."

"Thirsty, huh?" he smirks while pouring me a glass. He hands it to me and I gulp down three large sips. "At least I offered you a drink," he jokes while finding a seat next to me. I roll my eyes and pull out my laptop.

"Okay so, Sophie said she wants me to fix this clip at the part where the lighting is all messed up, so you will be responsible for playing with the hues and saturation–"

"I like when you get all serious and bossy," he interrupts me. I stop to make eye contact with him so he knows I mean business. "Could we stay on topic please?" I ignore his comment.

He chuckles and tells me to continue. He proceeds to lay back on his couch and watches me explain all the work we have to do.

"Got it?". He simply nods though I can tell he wasn't listening at all. "So what do I gotta do?" he asks. "Well, just take these clips and help me change the parts that she said were too long," I repeat.

//

To my surprise, we actually manage to get work done. I'm astounded by the amount of editing we finish in one day. As I am shortening clips, I look over to find him concentrated on his screen. The dim lighting in the room makes his abs look really nice, not that the lighting really even makes a difference. I'm sure they'd look good anywhere.

"Like what you see?" he asks maintaining focus to his laptop. I quickly turn my eyes away from him and back to my screen, brushing off the fact that I was staring. Right now, I am really missing the part of me that wanted nothing to do with him. I clear my throat and continue editing.

Suddenly, he puts his laptop down and turns to me. "You were staring."

I can already imagine the smirk on his face but I refuse to turn to him. "Tell me," he says scooting closer to me on the couch. Oh no, I got him started. "What?" I ask.

"How long has it been?" I can still feel his gaze on me but I try not to let him coerce me. I take into account how close his body is to mine and I can't help but look up at him. "How long has it been since you let down that pretty brown hair of yours?"

"I really don't know what you mean." I stuttered, unsure of how to respond. He comes in even closer causing me to slightly back away further into the couch. "I mean, you always have it tied up in one of those sleek ponytails." He notices my discomfort with him being that close to me so he leans back. "I need my hair to be out of my face while I'm working." I'm not amused by his foolish ways to avoid finishing the editing.

"Surely, you would let it down when you're having sex." He says confidently. "I beg your pardon?" I nearly choke on my own saliva. What on Earth has gotten into his head to make him think that asking something like that is acceptable? He has no boundaries whatsoever.

"We should really be getting back to work and frankly, whether I do or do not let my hair down is none of your business." I huff. "It's been a while hasn't it?" he jabs. I disregard his lame attempts to get me out of my zone. "Oh come on, how long has it been really?" he persists.

"Wait a minute," he sits up curiously as he continues to pry. It's almost as if I've sparked a flame inside him. "You're not a virgin, are you?"

I had to stare at him for a few seconds to truly understand how he could've reached that conclusion so quickly. I decide to go the honest route, considering he clearly sees through me. "So what if I am? There's nothing wrong with that." I respond maturely though I can see in his eyes he already knows the answer. "My ex-boyfriend, Jordan, tried to pressure me when we first started dating, but I just wasn't ready."

What he doesn't know is that my fear of losing my v-card was the reason that Jordan left me.

"Damn Jessica, who would've thought." He smirks at me and every bone in my body is dying to slap that arrogant look off his face. "After all these years?"

"It's not a big deal."

"That's so cute," he teases me like a little playful puppy. I hate that word. Cute. "Whatever." I roll my eyes.

Of, course he would find this humorous considering the grandiose number of girls he's slept with. Just look at him, what else would you expect? It must be so easy for him with his charm, good looks, and confidence. It just never ended up happening for me when I was younger and then work got in the way. Sure, I wouldn't mind grabbing some drinks and going home with a perfect stranger, but it's not really important to me.

He's got me thinking, however, maybe it has been too long.

Small update: Hey guys, I have been getting so many requests to continue updating and I really have to apologize for my slacking. I want to let you know that I am always reading your comments and continue to appreciate all the support on my works. Thank you for being so patient.

I will be updating more often so please feel free to leave any suggestions because I am always open to feedback and new ideas.

You guys are amazing <3