24 - How the hell does he do that?

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- LUNA -

Nella: Um . . . excuse me? What do you mean you woke up snuggling him?

Nella: Wait, let me get this straight . . . You willingly got into the same bed as Wolfe, and woke up not on your side of the bed, but on his chest. His NAKED chest? And you weren't wearing pants, or a bra, while you were in the same bed as a hot guy, and he didn't try anything on you?

Nella: Is he gay? Maybe he's gay . . . Though, I really didn't get a gay vibe from him. His eyes were on you the whole time we were out the other night, and he looked like he wanted to straight murder every guy that looked twice in your direction.

My phone seemed to have been vibrating constantly the whole time I was in the shower, not at all thinking about Wolfe having just been naked in here five minutes ago. I actually don't think I've ever been more physically attracted to anyone in my whole life. I almost wanted him to drop towel when he walked out of the bathroom before dripping wet, and just come join me back in bed, where I would have let him do just about anything he wanted to me. I even considered inviting him back into the shower with me, not that it would have been the first time we'd showered together; but at least this time I would have been more conscious during it, and would have remembered more of it the following morning.

But no. I'm being a good girl and trying to tame my own hormones, even though they seem to be in complete control of me right now. Instead, I'm standing here in the bathroom, wrapped in a towel that Wolfe had obviously left out to warm for me on the heated towel racks when he left the bathroom before and told me to get dressed so he could take me to breakfast, staring at the slew of messages being sent to me by my best friend, who wants to know all the finer details about my admission to having woken up draped across Wolfe's chest.

She was asking too many questions for me to even know which one to reply to first, so I left it on the counter as I got dressed and blow-dried my hair with the poor quality hairdryer I found in the bathroom cabinet. My hair is not appreciating the cheaper, hotel standard hair products I was forced to wash my hair with, and was already looking frizzier than it did when I got into the shower with the matted, sea-salted bedhair I never washed yesterday.

Had I known just how disastrous this trip was going to be—and believe me, my expectations were already low, though nothing at all as bad as what happened to Medusa—I would have packed actual clothes, not just a bikini and a spare set of underwear to change into after my swim, decent hair care products and makeup to make me look like a real human again. Now I'm stuck being bare-faced with a lazy bun to hide the humid mess that is my hair, wearing the very same clothes I wore yesterday, which have already proven to be ineffective in covering up my body, not that Wolfe seemed to mind.

I half considered using the small emergency clothing repair kit I found in the cabinet under the sink to patch up the holes in Dalen's shirt, but decided against it when I thought about how it would permanently erase some of the lingering Dalen from it.

Looking at my reflection, not at all satisfied with what I was seeing peering back at me, I sighed deeply at how disappointing this week has been, and the shitstorm that ensued last night. Of Medusa being cut open and lying in the veterinary hospital all on her own right now waiting for us to go pick her up. The realisation made me move a lot quicker out of the bathroom, finding Wolfe already packed and fixing the bed we'd just slept in together, despite knowing it was just going to be undone again and washed before the next couple came in to stay here.

Only we weren't actually a couple, though there seems to be a few people around who assume we are. We're just two people forced into being together by shitty circumstances that have made us more familiar to each other than I'm sure either of us anticipated when we first exchanged those text messages a few days ago.

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