Palas

30. "Who says it was a she?"

It's three A.M. and I still can't sleep. Outside in the jungle is a party going on and they can't seem to keep quiet. Next to me is a boy who must have a list of people to call when bored because after I shrugged him off that I wasn't letting him in my room, someone else was granted in his room. Yet I am still not allowed to see it. I wonder what he has to hide in there.

Rosie hasn't made it back to her room yet either and this strange urge to sit on the balcony to drink and smoke the night away overtakes me once again. What is happening to me?

Clearly Palas has a strange effect on me. After two weeks there's nothing left of the girl who would spend her Saturday nights on the couch bundled up. Without my dad I have lost the purpose to behave. I don't have to give the good example or protect him. I got his approval to have fun, so what is holding me back?

After a few screams and a closing door, I climb out of bed. I don't bother to put on a bra or do something with my appearance as I open the door to the hall-way. To give myself some time I first walk to the end of the hall where the bathroom is. Luckily up on till now our toilet is still working, but there's nothing wrong with checking the spare one out.

The room smells dusty as I open it, the door screeching. I turn on the light and as they come to life, flickering a bit, I see a white tiled space like the one back in my room. There are two doors; one with a sign for a toilet and one for a shower. In front of me is a sink and above it a wide stretching mirror. Two green eyes lurk to me from behind and I scream as I turn around, almost falling as I back away to the sink.

He just looks as unaffected as always while I hold on to the sink behind me. His smirk taunts me in a way. As if he knows he caught me on my way to him and only wandered in here to dally away time and find some courage. I was going to demand to see his room, maybe find out something more about him. Now that I see him, I am glad that I didn't knock on his room first.

His body is glistening in sweat giving away that my suspicions of his whereabouts are true. He's truly beautiful, but also scaring me all the time. His hair is up in a bun and he twists a strand of hair between his fingers as he spies on me. The way his tattoos on his stomach stretch out mesmerizes me and my mouth is too dry to speak.

I constantly remind myself in my head that I have a boyfriend at home who I would be with this Saturday if I weren't here, but I choose to stay here with him. It will be another five weeks before James comes over and my stomach twists that he might be standing in a room with a half-naked woman at the same time. I also wonder what it means that I have to remind myself to not touch him.

He must read my doubts and resistance on my face as he steps closer to me. My breath gets caught in my throat and comes out in little puffs. It is almost as if I can feel his thumbs rubbing over my belly earlier. My hands fist around the fabric of the loose shirt I'm wearing as I try not to think back to the way it felt when I held him on the jet-ski. And worse, what it would have felt like if I had stroke down his abs to his-

I have to snap out of this, but I already ran once from him today and I don't want him to know how conflicted I am starting to feel about him. I'm not even sure what it is. It seems purely physical and that's what freaks me out the most because I never felt this way. I've always been attracted to the idea of it, but never actually felt it. It hits me like a ton of bricks that I want him.

It would have been easier if he would speak, but he keeps as quiet as me as he takes another step. My body is screaming for him to come closer but my mind is pushing him away. He almost has me cornered as his hand stretches out to grab me.

I close my eyes and hold my breath, ready to face the consequences for when his hands slide under my pajama to my bare chest. I already feel his hot touch, but then a door closes.