Blurred Lines [BxB] COMPLETED

0.18

0.18 - Saturday 1:30 p.m.

Maverick Bale (yes, still his POV)

Fingertips skim my thighs, lips brush my neck, my fingers lock in chocolate hair—

"Maverick Bale, wake up right now!"

The door to my room slams open, pouring white light into my room. I squint my eyes, ignoring the burn from the sudden contrast between pitch black and bright sunlight. My mom stands in the doorway with her arms crossed.

"Do you know what time it is, Maverick?" she asks in a low voice.

"No?"

"It's 1:30! Rhys will be here any minute now and you haven't even woken up, let alone having eaten breakfast or lunch or gotten dressed. Why didn't you put an alarm?" Her voice is full of disapproval, and it's almost too much to take right when I wake up. At the same time, she's right. Rhys will be here soon and I need to be sharp enough to keep myself in check.

"Okay, okay. I'm getting up. I'll be downstairs in five minutes."

"Make it two minutes. And hurry up." She leaves the room with a frown that reminds me too much of Lauren. Fuck, I don't know how I'm going to face her today.

I should shower, even though I don't have that much time. Not to mention, I was in the middle of a certain dream of a certain someone when my mom barged in. But Rhys could be here any moment. What if he walks in my room while I'm occupied? What if he hears me? These questions should turn me off, but if anything, my heart beats faster in my chest and my breath slides in and out of my lungs at an alarming rate.

Fuck it. So what if he hears? So what if he walks in?

I'm in the shower faster than I can blink, turning the water on sharply, jerking slightly when the water sprays on the sensitive skin of my stomach and upper thighs.

"Rhys! Good to see you. How is everyone?"

Even with the shower running over my head I can still hear my mom's enthusiastic greeting. I strain my ears for his reply, but he must be speaking too softly.

"He's upstairs getting ready. Why don't you go on up to his room and tell him to hurry up for me." If only my mother knew what a miracle that was, and what her son is doing upstairs in the shower. She would lose her shit.

The deep fire inside my abdomen flares each time the stairs creak, a warning that Rhys will be in my room any second, able to hear any slipped moan or stifled cry. And yet instead of slowing my pace, I go faster, harder, until my mind goes blank, numb, and when the door opens and Rhys calls my name, it sends me over the edge, and it takes all my strength to keep myself from collapsing against the wall or crying out loud.

I clean up quickly and turn off the water. My towel fell from its place over the plastic curtain holder and onto the mat. I lean over and pick it up, wrapping the suddenly noticeably thin fabric around my waist.

Time to face my undeniably massive crush.

I swing the door open.

"Mav, your mom said—" Rhys cuts off when he sees me. I must be quite a view, my skin glistening with a rosy tint, my hair wet and plastered to the sides of my forehead, and my towel barely hanging on my hips.

I never knew I could make Rhys fluster like this, and if I'm not careful, it may become my favorite hobby.

"—that I need to hurry up?" I finish for him. Rhys nods, averting his eyes away from my face...and on my chest, still wet since I haven't bothered to dry myself. Rhys flushes, his fingers shooting to the back of his neck to scratch awkwardly. The fuck this won't become my favorite hobby. I could watch his olive skin burn bright red on repeat and never get bored of it. And shit, if it isn't a turn on. A small part of me wants to go back into the shower and just jerk off to this image in my head, of Rhys's eyelids lowering guiltily, his cheeks and neck flushed a deep, dark red, and those teeth, worriedly catching onto his bottom lip.