Roomies ✔

29 - Competitive Jewelry

"Juice?" Her voice came out of the bathroom. "Can you zip my dress? The zipper's kinda rigid."

Juice walked into the still steamy room, his skin felt clammy immediately. Jamie had turned her back towards him and tugged at the zipper on her lower back. 

"I'm afraid to tear it," she muttered, looking over her shoulder. "And it's the first time I wear it."

Juice came to stand behind her and was about to zip up. "Did you dry yourself at all?" he wondered at the sight of the drops on her back. He grabbed the towel from the hook and wiped her back. 

"It's because of my hair," she chuckled. "But there isn't much you can say about wet hair." She shook her had, making drops fly around. 

"Hey!" Quickly he turned his face away, laughing when she did the same, accidentally sweeping her hair into his face. "Now it's wet again. I'm startin' to think you're doin' this on purpose."

He used the mirror to look at her, shaking his head as she stuck out her tongue. 

"I kinda like having a servant."

He grabbed her hips, squeezing the flesh above them so she jumped, squeaking. Smirking, he dried her back once more. He noticed the goosebumps spreading underneath his touch, taking as much time to wipe her dry as he could. His hands were tingling, he wanted to run them across her body, feeling every curve. Before he would really make a move, he focused on his job. He took the zip between his fingers, pulling the fabric down a little to create an opposing force. Suddenly, his eye caught a bit of ink and he remembered Roman's words.

"Hey, you got a tattoo?" he asked, pretending to be surprised. 

"Yes!" She looked over her shoulder. 

"Can I see it?"

"Sure!"

Juice pulled down the fabric, until right above her tailbone. It was a round design with a stylized Indian face in the middle, surrounded by various rings filled with symbols he didn't recognize. "Cool," he said – a bit surprised because apparently this was the reason people had been after her.

"Thanks!"

He zipped up the dress, where after she turned around. Once again she wore a vintage dress, a black one with a tight waist and a wide skirt. From her right shoulder to halfway her left breast, the fabric was covered with white dots, and from her left thigh until below on the right, the fabric was also cut in half, with the same dots on the left side. 

It was typically a dress that only looked good on Jamie. 

"You like it?" She swayed with her dress, spinning around. 

"I think you're beautiful," he blurted out. 

The dress, Juice. Not Jamie herself. He felt his cheeks flush and breathed in sharply when she bit her lip shyly. 

"I'm going to dry my hair," Jamie said when they stared a bit awkwardly at each other; he didn't manage to turn away from her. 

"Yeah. I uh – won't."

He bit the inside of his cheek while turning around. Would this ever go away? He was happy Jamie was so blind to his stupidity; everyone else would have picked up on his feelings for her. 

. . .

"That tattoo... What does it mean?" he asked when they were sitting on the couch in the with balloons and streamers decorated living room. 

"It's a Mayan piece of art. One day, I saw the sketch in my uncle's office and I loved it so much I made a copy of it to get it tattooed on my back."