How To Not Fall For Mason Cater

2. Half-naked first encounter

I had gotten out of bed on Monday, knowing already that my parents would be at work, even though I didn't start my new school for another week.
Uhhhhh school...
Anyway, this gave me the perfect opportunity and do what any other 17 year old would do when they had a house to themselves for a day... Turn the radio up and dance around by myself whilst painting my room.
I know sooooooo stereotypical.

In the early afternoon, I tied my hair back into a messy bun- I didn't have to look neat, no one was going to see me anyway. I threw on one of my dads old baggy shirts, which I had stolen and usually wore to paint in, and rolled up the sleeves to my elbows. I didn't bother with any trousers because, knowing me, I would be sentencing them to death by paint and I didn't feel like sacrificing an innocent pair of pants for no reason. Not to mention it was like a billion degrees and I'd probably liquefy if I put another piece of clothing on. This left me in my underwear and an oversized old button-down which that hung off my body and fell to my mid thigh. I know, scandalous.
I caught a glimpse of myself in my tall mirror-propped up against the bed frame.
Wow really looking great. (Jk I look like a toddler being smothered by 'big-girl' clothes).
I opened the cans of paint. Let's just say I wasn't going for the minimalist look. More of the 'a-unicorn-just-exploded-in-my-room' look, but in a tasteful way.
What can I say?
I'm an artist.
I like colours.
Sue me.
I poured some blue into a roller tray along with some white, gold, white and red in another. I stood up, proud that I had managed, so far, not to get any paint on my floor and darted over the paints and items scattered around the floor to open the curtains and get some light in the room annnnnnnnd I froze...

About 5 ft away from me stood a guy. Sorry, did I say guy? Greek god might be more accurate. He appeared to be fixing something above his window but I was too mesmerised by the way his muscles flexed under his golden skin to think about it. He could have been murdering a borrower for all I cared he still looked like a male model. Maybe he was-
And now I'm staring. Like a creep. I'm staring at a random stranger. An a incredibly hot random stranger but still. Did I mention he was shirtless? I needed to look away before he saw me.
But whats a girl to do? Close the curtains and never open them again? Walk away and pretend that never happened? I decided on the latter and was going to tear my eyes away from him. Away from his body: from his perfect muscles and his messy golden hair and his adorable smirk and his beautiful crystal blue eyes- wait?
Eyes? He was looking straight at me whilst I gaped at him like a fish... What's a girl to do now?

"New neighbour?" He asked in a casual tone, effectively scaring my ass off- and yes I'm aware that isn't a saying but it is now so deal with it.
I shrieked, stumbling backwards, tripping on the paint trays and landing in an undignified lump on the floor.  Paint sprayed everywhere- but mostly it landed on myself.
So much for not making a mess with the paint. I sighed, pushing the loose hairs out of my face- which only transferred the paint, from my paint soaked hands, to my face. I groaned, standing up.
"Should I take that as a yes?" He asked, leaning his elbows on his window sill. He eyed my paint stained clothing and face, his smirk grew.
God  his voice was sexy and he looked like a model, like a super sexy model. And I looked like- I didn't even want to think about how I looked like right now.
"Apparently" I replied, breathlessly, a little dazed by the way his dark blonde hair ruffled in he slight breeze and the piecing blue of his eyes and the way his mouth lifted up at the corner into a crooked smile and my eyes drifted to his bare chest, his golden skin was ripped with perfect muscles and... Oh god I was staring like an idiot again at his half naked, amazing body . Maybe he didn't notice. 
What is wrong with me?!
I snapped myself out of it. He raised his perfect eyebrows.
"Enjoying the view?"He asked.
Yes. I felt my skin blush.  Damn of course he noticed, I mentally scolded myself. And my blush deepened as I saw his eyes stray from mine and down my body, my -also half-naked- paint stained body. He raised his eyebrows
"No pants?" He asked eying my shirt. "Not that I'm complaining" he smirked. I self consciously tugged my shirt down.
"No shirt?" I quipped back.
His smirk widened. "Well, I think we've already established you're quite glad I didn't wear a shirt." My blush deepened further as he winked at me. I was suddenly very infuriated that this smirking stranger was having such an affect on me.
"Well I'm glad I didn't wear pants now that I've met you" I stated angrily. It didn't quite come out the way I'd intended and I probably should have added 'because now my legs are covered in paint.' I blushed. Again.
Surprised amusement flashed across his face, before his features settled into an arrogant, satisfied look.
"That's what all the girls say" He smirked. Again.
"I didn't mean-" I started indignantly, before cutting myself off.
He raised his eyebrows in question.
"I meant" I practically snarled. "That because off you, I'm now covered in paint-and so is my floor" but mostly me- but he didn't have to know that.
"Me? You're the one that was staring at me"
"I was not staring!" I was. Twice.
"No no," he said, in mock sincerity "you're right. I take full responsibility. My shirtless body can cause many accidents and look what I've done now." He said. Motioning to my body. He smirked before innocently saying "you're all wet." He laughed seeing the shocked expression on my face at his not-too-subtle innuendo.
"What?! I can't- you- "
"What's wrong? cat got your tongue, red?" He smirked.
"No!" I reflexively reached up to touch my hair. I had slightly curly hair that was a natural shade somewhere between bright red and dark brunette. I immediately regretted it as I remembered my paint covered hands and now my, even more, paint covered hair.
"Nice hair. But, I was referring to your blush" he said with an arrogant smirk. My face reddened by the fact that he had noticed and I internally cursed how easily I was blushing. I never blush. His smirk grew. "You've got a little something..." He motioned, to the side of his head where, on me, I had just smeared a lot of paint.
"Uhhhhh" I growled as I pulled the curtains closed again. Ineffectively shutting out his infuriating laugh-even this guys laugh hot. I internally cursed the hot weather for stopping me from slamming the window in his face.