At the memory, a bitter laugh escaped my lips. High school – nowthathad ended with a bang, or more accurately a boom – aflamingboom, to be exact, even if that hadn't been my intention.
But forget high school. Now, I had to face the music with whoever was waiting in the hallway.
After I finished getting dressed, I scooped up theotherclothes, the ones I'd taken off before getting into the shower. Hoping to hide them from prying eyes, I wadded them up into the smallest ball possible and tucked them under my arm.
And then, I reached for my cell phone, only to receive yet another nasty surprise.My phone – it was gone.
Frantically, I scanned the bathroom, but it was no use. I'd placed it right there on the far side of the sink. And now, it quite simply wasn't there.
Terrific.Obviously, the stranger had swiped it when I hadn't been looking.
Through the bathroom door, I called out, "Hey! Where's my phone?"
The stranger replied, "You've gotta ask?"
"So youdohave it?"
"Hell yeah."
"Why?" I demanded.
"Why do you think?"
Because you're a jerk, that's why.Through gritted teeth, I said, "Do you seriously want me to answer that?"
He paused, as if thinking. "No."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't care," he said. "Are you dressed?"
"Maybe."
"Good," he said. "Now open the door."
For a whole host of reasons, I didn't want to. The thought of actually facing him was more than a little scary – and not only because of the gun.
When I made no reply, the guy spoke again. "You know you've got to come out eventually, right?"
"Why?" I scoffed. "So you can shoot me?"
"If I wanted to shoot you," he said, "I would've done it already."
Well, that was comforting.Sort of.
I called back, "And why do you have a gun in the first place?"
"Listen," he said, "gun or no gun, we both know I could come in any time I want. So cut the crap and open up already."
Damn it.He was right. The bathroom had no windows, and it's not like I could call anyone to rescue me. And even if I could, who would come?
In the end, I decided I might as well get it over with. Bracing myself, I sucked in a deep breath, reached for the knob, and yanked open the door.
And there he was – looking even better, now that we were standing face-to-face.
His dark hair was a damp, tousled mess, and his T-shirt was still wet. The thin white cotton clung to his chest and abs, showing off muscular pecs and a perfect six-pack just above his tattered jeans.
As for his face, it was pure perfection, with nice cheekbones, a rugged jaw, and dark, brooding eyes.
