Page 19 of Hate It with You

“Shit…fuck…stupid…fucking…sink…” Beth is grunting out a string of expletives when I reach her. I suppress a chuckle when I find her, moving steadily to help her stop the water gushing out of the bathroom sink pipes. She’s planted on the floor in front of the sink, fighting the pipe with all her strength. From the looks of it, the pipe is winning.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding at the sight of her being okay.

At least she isn’t hurt.

Taking a towel from a nearby rack, I wrap it around the pipe. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.” Grabbing her hands, I put them in place of mine and rush out of the bathroom door, smiling at the shocked look on her face that I’m here in the first place.

To my surprise, she actually follows my command and stays put.

Water splashes under my feet on the laminate flooring as I step into the living room, the water continuing to pool outside the bathroom. Noticing a few boxes labeled “Books,” I take the time to grab them, placing them in the dining room far from the water, before heading to my apartment to grab my toolbox.

It doesn’t take me long to get back to her apartment, and I easily make my way to the bathroom now that a path has been cleared and her books are out of harm’s way. Though once I’m back, I’m met with a soaked-through towel, more gushing water, and a scowling Beth.

From what I can tell, there's only a small disconnect in the piping, so it shouldn’t be too difficult to fix. Grabbing the wrench from my toolbox, I join Beth on the bathroom floor. I’m thankful I opted to run shirtless this morning so my movements aren’t currently restricted by a soaked-through shirt.

Making quick work with the pipe, I secure the two pieces back together, successfully stopping the water flow. A sigh releases from my lips at the sight.

“I had it handled.” Beth’s words catch me off guard, throwing me into a spurt of laughter I don’t care to hold back.

She stands, hands on her hips as she looks down at where I’m still on the floor. Given our height difference, she doesn’t have to look far.

I’m still laughing when I stand to my full height in front of her, water sloshing around on the ground at my movements.

“You had it handled?” I ask, waiting for her response.

Her hair is tied up on top of her head, and she pushes a few loose strands out of her eyes before crossing her arms and responding, “Yes, I had it handled.”

When her eyes dip to my chest and continue traveling lower, I’m reminded of my shirtless status. When her eyes dip even lower, I do what I can to hide the smile teasing my lips when she notices how low my shorts are hanging on my hips. I don’t care to adjust them.

A faint blush spreads across her cheeks, tightening her arms further across her chest. It only presses her breasts together, bringing attention to the fact that her all-white T-shirt is completely soaked through, and she isn’t wearing a bra. The cold water does nothing to hide her visibly hard nipples, and my cock springs to life at the sight of her.

Clearing my throat, I turn around, finding another towel on the towel rack and handing it to her, careful of where my eyes land.

She takes the towel from me and covers herself, now aware of how see-through her shirt is. Her reaction is unexpected when the corners of her lips tick up, and she says, “You ogling me, Alex?”

Matching her smile, I can’t help but say, “You ogled me first.” I’m rewarded with one of her signature eye rolls and a shove out of the way as she passes by me. Her hand burns a brand into my bicep as she does, causing my cock to harden further.

“Shit, my books,” Beth says as she’s exiting the bathroom.

I take a minute to gather myself before looking in her direction again. To my relief, she’s thrown on a sweatshirt. Though the sight of our favorite band’s logo sprawled across the back does nothing to dampen my growing fascination with her.

Beth is checking the various boxes she has around her living room, presumably looking for her books. Crossing my arms, I lean against the doorframe of the bathroom, as I focus all my strength in avoiding watching her thick thighs flex and move, exposed by the tiny shorts she’s wearing.

Not finding what she’s looking for, she looks in my direction. “Where are my books?”

I point to where I moved the boxes, effectively saving her books from the disaster. I smile at the dramatic sigh that’s released from her lips when her eyes land on the boxes labeled “Books” piled in the dining room. No sight of water damage to be found.

The extra water damage caused by the time it took me to move all of those heavy-ass boxes is going to cost me more money than I probably have at the moment, but the current look on her face is worth more than what I’m going to pay to fix these floors.

The moment is short-lived when she turns back to me, a glare plastered on her face again. Although she’s eased up on the intensity of her attitude.

Her face softens when her eyes dip toward my abs again, into a look of defeat. Throwing her hands up at me before slamming them down, she grunts before saying, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” I ask, cocking my head slightly, feigning a misunderstanding of what she’s saying.

“You know what. Get the fuck off the doorframe, Alex.” Her eyes darken, and I don’t miss the hint of desperation that escapes her voice when she says the words.

Her shoulders relax when I move off the doorframe, only to tense back up when I take a step toward her.