The Amberly Chronicles Episode Eight: The Shower Scene.

You can read episode one here. Episode two here. Episode three here. Episode four here. Episode five here. Episode six here, and episode seven here.

My room is warm when we step inside, but not enough to stop my body trembling.
“I’m sorry,” I say, turning to Oliver. “The rain was my fault.” The rain has plastered his white shirt against skin, showing off his gorgeous lean form. I have to drag my eyes to his face.
“No, we were there together, it was our fault.”
It’s nice of him to say, but it’s not true. I saw that thing, and clearly they didn’t like it. So why put it there?
“You should shower, warm up,” Oliver says. “We can talk then.”
I swallow, my eyes falling to his chest on their own accord. “So should you.”
“Yeah. I’ll go shower in my room and come straight back.”
But I don’t want him to go, don’t want to be alone. I’m too shaken up by everything. Did I piss them off too much this time? Will Botcop show up at any minute to take me away?
He presses his lips to mine, and before he can move away, I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him deeper. His hands slide around my waist and I pull him closer. We fall against the door. He glides his hand up my back. Heat rises in me and I don’t want him to stop kissing me, want to keep feeling this instead of the fear.
“Amberly.” My name trembles from his lips. A plead to stop or. I think I want or.
I swallow. My insides shake as much as my outside. “Join me in the shower.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “You sure?”
I nod, and tell the bathroom door to open. My stomach flutters as we stand facing each other in front of the shower. Water is sliding down my leg to puddle on the floor.
“We need to get you out of these wet clothes,” Oliver says. He tugs up the bottom of my shirt and lifts it over my head. He tosses it onto the floor. One of his hands wrap around my back, the other under my pony tail, and then we are kissing again. I scrunch his shirt in my hands and then pull it up. We break only for a second to lift it over his head and then his lips are on mine again. I run my hand down his muscled stomach and he shivers under my touch.
He flicks open the button of my shorts, pulling his lips from mine to kiss me just below my belly button before tugging them down. I kick them off.
He goes to kiss me on the mouth again but I pull back. I bite my lip. “I’ve never showered with a boy before. I mean. I can’t remember if I have. I feel like I haven’t. I don’t know.” This not remembering thing really sucks. I don’t even know if I’m a virgin or not. “How many girls have you showered with? I mean, do you remember?”
He thinks for a minute. “I don’t remember before, but I’ve showered with one girl here.”
One’s not bad. I wonder who she is. Does she still have feelings for Oliver?
“But if you’re asking how many girls I’ve slept with,” he says. “It’s more.”
I’m acutely aware of his hands on my hips and mine on his shoulders and how good his kiss is, and how much I want to just kiss him and pull him into the shower and not know, because I don’t know what’s going to happen to me at the end of the week and I don’t want to die a virgin, if I am, but I don’t think I can’t know now, so I ask. “How many?”
He licks his lips. Oh God he is so hot. “I’ll tell you, but don’t freak out.”
How bad is this going to be? Lyssa did warn me about him. I should have listened. I nod.
My eyes bug out of my head. “What? How long have you been here again?”
“Five months.”
He has slept with five girls and he’s only been here five months!
His hands fall from my hips. “You’re freaking out.”
“I’m just a little…surprised.”
“You really should get in the shower now. I don’t have to join you, if you’re not ready.”
“I..” I thought I was, but wow. That is a lot of girls in such a short time. “I didn’t imagine my first time being in a shower.”
A slow smile spreads across his face. “We can move to your bed after, we can just start in there.”
He steps forward, his arms circling me.
“Do they have protection here?”
He has my bikini top untied and it is falling as the door suddenly opens. I grab my top to keep myself covered and both Oliver and I whip our heads to the side to see a wide eyed Tamara standing there.
“Sorry,” she says, her cheeks flaming red to match my own as she tells the door to close.
Oliver tells the door to lock which we neglected to do earlier, distracted as we were by each other’s lips.
My heart is racing frantically under my hands but Oliver isn’t fazed by our interruption and moves to pull my hands down.
“Wait,” I say.
He pauses, keeping his hands on top of mine.
“It’s okay,” he assures me. “I’m sure she’ll have left to give us privacy.”
“No, you didn’t answer my question.”
“Oh, right,” his hands drop. “No.”
All the warmth from wanting Oliver completely leaves me and my teeth start to chatter. Oliver tells the shower to turn on.
“Oliver…” If he has slept with girls here without protection than I definitely can’t sleep with him.
“It’s okay, Amberly, I’ll go.” He picks up his shirt and heads toward the door, telling it to unlock.
He pauses, turns around. “Just so you know, I’m not trying to break your heart. You’re not just another girl to add to the list. Those girls didn’t want anything else from me. I want to keep getting to know you, Amberly. I can move slow.” He tells the door to open and walks out.
I almost go after him. Almost. There’s just too much to think about. I squeak for the door to lock, slip out of my bikini and step into the streaming warm water. It’s divine after being so cold. I close my eyes, an overwhelming need to cry washing over me. “I just want to go home.” What I wouldn’t do for a pair of ruby slippers right now.

©Rochelle Sharpe 2015


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