Kara stepped into the warm shower, dazed, as if hit by a sudden rush of reality. "What just happened," she sighed, collapsing against the wall and crumbling into a ball beneath the water.
Afterward, she threw on nothing but a t-shirt, panties, and socks. Staring at the ceiling of her room, she grew bored. Luckily, her phone saved her as Dolly's name flashed on the screen.
"Hi, Bubbles," Kara said groggily, using the nickname they'd given each other yesterday.
"Blossom! What happened? I heard you got sick, you poor thing!" Dolly shrieked. Kara could imagine the look on her face, there would be tears in her big eyes.
"It's just a fever. How did you know?"
"Monowi is a small town. News travels fast here… I miss you."
Kara chuckled. Dolly had to be the softest girl she'd ever met. She just couldn't imagine why anyone would hate or hurt such a sweet creature. "I miss you too."
"Should I come over to your place and visit?" Dolly asked.
Like a ghost, a shirtless Rox quietly opened Kara's door and leaned against the frame, shaking his head with an expressionless face.
Giving him a long look, Kara tried to concentrate on the phone. "It's okay, Dolly. I'll be fine. I'll be in school tomorrow."
"Promise?"
"Promise," Kara said with a smile.
"Oh, Rox didn't come to school today. Hope you aren't faking sick so you guys could bone each other," Dolly giggled.
Kara's jaw dropped instinctively, her cheeks glowing with embarrassment. "Why the hell would you think that?"
Dolly laughed. "Girl, I can see the way you look at him like you want to jump his—"
Kara faked a cough.
"Kara! Kara! Are you alright?" Dolly panicked.
"Gotta go. Need to take my drugs," Kara lied and quickly hung up.
At the arch of Rox's brow, Kara got defensive. "Are you lost?"
He smirked, plopping on her bed. "Nope."
"So, what are you doing in my room?" she snarled.
"Your room is disgustingly pink," he drawled, looking around.
Her eyes fell to the contours of his body. Jesus, he was ripped. His chest was well-muscled, and his abs defined. The tattoos on his chest and arms seemed meant to be traced by curious fingers.
Her eyes trailed until they met his, and she flinched at the intensity of his gaze. Clearing her throat, she looked anywhere but his eyes. "We should watch a movie."
When he stood up to leave, she grabbed his arm. "Watch it with me," she pleaded.
Reluctantly, he sat down.
He didn't want to be close to her, not when she looked so good in a t-shirt, on comfy soft sheets, stirring thoughts he didn't want to entertain. But he lay beside her, jaw clenching and unclenching.
"I don't do white girl chick flicks," he warned.
Kara chuckled lightly, searching through Netflix. "Neither do I."
She chose Game of Thrones, which turned out to be a bad idea. At the part where Daenerys and Khal Drogo had their first intimate scene, Kara felt so hot she had to pause the movie.
"I think movies are a bad idea," she laughed nervously.
His smoldering gaze didn't falter. "Do you?"
She nodded. "Yes."
His hand reached out, tracing her hair, her eyebrows, her cheeks. She leaned into his touch, unsure of how they'd gotten so close. Their breaths mingled, steady pants leaving their lips.
As she tried to close the distance, he shifted back.
"You should stay away from me, Kara. I break girls like you. As much as I want you, I'm not going to make you a snack," he said painfully, standing up.
Kara bit her lip. "What if I want to be broken? What if I want to be a snack?"
He used his thumb to pull her lip free from her teeth, his expression conflicted.
"You don't understand," he murmured. "I leave scars, Kara. Marks that don't heal."
She nodded as he shut the door between them.