BeepBeep
Beep
What the hell?
Why is that on during the weekend? It's Saturday for crying out loud!
I grumble under my breath. Now I won't be able to go back to sleep.
I sigh and pull myself off my bed, stumbling once on my feet. I pull my arms over my head and lean back, stretching. Guess it's time to get ready.
Rubbing my eyes, I walk towards my bathroom and strip down.
Jumping in the shower, I feel my hair and cringe. When was the last time I washed it? Dismissing the thought I take out my messy bun and get to work.
**********
Stepping out of my bathroom, I grab my brush from my vanity and glance at the clock.
11:23.
I smile.
Kale should be awake.
Brushing my hair, I take off towards Kale's room. I pause at his door for a moment before knocking.
I hope this doesn't wake him up.
I shrug and knock anyway. Only to be greeted with silence. Does he ever answer his door?
I sigh and listen closely. I hear his television. I laugh when I hear the faint voice of Joey Tribbiani saying "How you doin'?". Shaking my head I open the door. Screw his privacy. He doesn't give me any.
Taking a couple steps into his now clean room - which I helped him clean, all those weeks ago when he broke down - I smile.
Without thinking my hand goes to the necklace around my neck. I haven't taken it off, simply because I don't want to.
"Oh, yes." Kale's voice snaps me out of my thoughts.
What did he just say?
My head snaps towards his bathroom. Only now hearing the shower running.
"Oh, my - Fuck!"
Is he okay?
"Come on!"
What the hell is he doing?
"Ugh. Jesus!"
After that last outburst, I hear what sounds like a hand hitting the wall of the shower.
I gasp, hands flying to my mouth, making my brush fall onto the floor. I stumble backwords, trying to ignore the sounds of pleasure coming from the bathroom.
He's masturbating right now.
Actually doing that . . . in the shower, at this moment.
Hearing one last groan a couple moments later I hear the shower turn off. My eyes widen. I rush towards the door. Shutting the door quietly I sprint into my room, shutting the door behind me and diving onto my bed.
Breathing hard, I try to catch my breath.
What in the actual hell did I just witness?
My breathing slowed and I run my hand through my hair, feeling it all tangled up.
My eyes widen at the realization.
I left my brush in his room.
I can't just go in there and get it. That would be so awkward.
YOU ARE READING
He's Not Bad, He's Broken
RomanceBradley Stevenson. Kale Ryder. She's broken. He's broken. She doesn't trust anyone, at all. He only trusts his three best friends. They both have secrets. They both want to help. Can two broken souls heal one another? Or. . . will it all crash and...