Recovery (Sequel to Been You)

Chapter 7: Flirt With Me

ELYSANDRA'S POV:

After showering, it dawns on me that I don't have a change of clothes. I'm supposed to be meeting my "friends" and I have nothing to wear. Shit. I leave the bathroom in a towel, still wet, to find Justin in his room. He's in his mirror messing with his hair when my sudden entrance startled him, causing him to jump. I giggle to myself. "Since when do you style your hair?"

"Well, I, uh," he starts, scratching the back of his neck nervously, "I was trying to impress you."

"And you think brushing your hair is gonna make me fall in love with you?" I muse from the doorway. In less than a few strides, Justin closes the gap between us two so that I'm stuck between him and the doorframe. My stomach flips and my breathing goes shallow.

"I don't know," he breathes. I can feel him more than I can hear him. "Is it working?" I swallow hard, floored by feelings I'm unable to comprehend. Justin's sudden advance led me to neglect the towel covering my naked body. Welcoming the distraction, I tighten the towel around myself before looking up at Justin. Wow. I have to admit, he does look good with his hair pushed back, and he knows it. The smirk on his face makes this plain to me.

"Hey, Justin, the girls wanna know what time they should get here," one of Justin's teammates calls from the hallway, clearly not seeing me up against the doorframe. As he approaches and I become visible to him, his eyes widen before he averts them. "Oh! Hi Ely! I'll uh, I'll just tell them three. I'll see you guys at three," he rambles.

"Alright, Za," Justin answers, annoyed and defeated. The guy, Za, scrambles for what I assume to be his room. I take the opportunity to escape into Justin's room.

"I don't have clothes, Justin."

"Top left drawer, babe," he answers. I suspiciously check the drawer to find clothes - my clothes, filling the drawer completely. While I'm at his dresser, I notice some of my hair products lined up next to his. Were we really this serious? And for two whole months? Weird. I rummage through the drawer until I find a cute beige t-shirt dress. I hold it up to myself, but end up deciding against it. As I reach to return it to the drawer, Justin interrupts, "Please, wear it?" I furrow my eyebrows at him.

"Why?"

"Your ass looks so good in it," he marvels. I roll my eyes at this. Part of me feels that I should pick something else because he said that, but for some reason, I don't. I drop my towel and pull my dress over my head, admiring my butt in the mirror. Justin wasn't lying. I go to tell him this, but his expression is completely astonished. I furrow my eyebrows at him in confusion, to which he physically shakes himself back to reality, saying, "Sorry. It's just - I haven't seen you... I haven't seen you naked since the accident and uh... just some warning next time would help," Justin rambles. I giggle at this.

"Sorry, babe," I laugh at his discomfort before quickly grabbing the hem of my dress and flashing him. "Oops!"

"You little tease!" Justin says before running after me. I try to get away, but he tackles me down onto his bed. As if that weren't enough, he begins tickling me, making me laugh so hard my stomach hurts and my eyes tear up. That is until Justin's door swings open. I sit upright as quickly as possible, but it's not quickly enough. Looking at Ryan standing in the doorway, I can tell by his dejected expression that he'd seen Justin and I and assumed it was something that it wasn't. I open my mouth, to say what? I don't know. But it doesn't matter because Ryan speaks before I do.

"We're gonna order the food for the get together... did you want anything special, El?" Ryan asks, clearly trying to hide his disappointment.

"Um, is everyone okay with pizza?" I ask.

"Yeah, of course. Whatever you want. I'll call in the order," Ryan answers. I know I'm not dating either of them, I don't owe either of them anything, but I still feel guilty.

"Thank you, Ryan," I reply, my voice soaked in guilt. He just nods before leaving. I feel Justin watching me, making the guilt feel even heavier.

"Cmon, J, let's go downstairs. It's almost three."