Page 92 of On the Double
“I was in there for less time than you.”
I snorted at that. “I’m a woman. It takes me longer. What’s your excuse?”
“I was cleaning myself.”
“You were doing more than that.”
He threw a pillow at me. “I don’t need you thinking about what I do in the shower.”
“Like I haven’t heard it before? When you were fifteen, everyone in the house knew what you were doing in the shower. You weren’t exactly quiet.”
His face flamed red. “Seriously?”
I nodded with a grin on my face. “Dad would chuckle and say,There he goes, off to shower again.You were the only kid he knew of that took so many showers.”
He covered his face in embarrassment. “Fuck, I could have gone the rest of my life without knowing that.”
“How do you think the rest of us felt? I was only twelve, but I knew what you were doing. I thought you were going to break your dick off.”
“Stop,” he groaned. “Christ, I need a drink.”
“I don’t think we have anything.”
He eyed my cookies and I shifted, yelping as he reached for my glass at the same time as he snagged my cookies. The milk upended on my clothes, soaking me with white liquid.
Glaring at him, I stood, holding the shirt away from my body. “Look what you did!”
“What I did? You moved!”
“Because you were trying to steal my milk!”
“Because you were being selfish and wouldn’t share,” he retorted.
I stuck my tongue out at him, feeling like we were in high school all over again. “Now I have to shower again.” I turned my back on him,but then got one last dig in. “I hope you rinsed the shower when you were done.”
His face flamed again, and I laughed, heading into my bedroom to toss my shirt in with what remained of my laundry in the basket. My skin was soaked with remnants of milk, and if I didn’t shower again, I would feel disgusting for the rest of the night.
After a quick shower, I sat down on my bed, staring longingly at my pillow. I just wanted to close my eyes and go to sleep, but I had promised Oliver I’d watch a movie with him. Dragging my tired ass from the bed, I headed back into the living room and plopped down on the couch.
“So, what are we watching?”
“What are you cooking?”
I slapped him and he slapped me.
Neither of us moved to get any food, and both of us fell asleep on the couch without ever picking a movie.
“I’m late!”I shouted, hopping down the hall as I struggled to put my shoe on.
“What?” Oliver emerged from his room just as I raised my knee again. We collided, sending me into the opposite wall. He rolled his eyes as I slid to the floor, still struggling to get my shoe on.
“Harper,” he sighed, grabbing my elbow and hauling me upright. “This would be so much easier if you would just sit down and put on your shoes first.”
“Like I yelled, I’m late,” I huffed. I shuffled into the living room, my shoe still dangling off my foot. I sat down and quickly pulled on my shoe, then tied it. Glancing at the clock, I knew my manager would be pissed at me. I was never late, but this morning, nothing was going right for me.
Since I’d fallen asleep on the couch, I forgot to change laundry loads. My clothes were still soaked this morning because the washer didn’t drain properly, and the only shirt I had to wear to work hadbeen rumpled up on the floor of my closet. So, not only did I feel dirty, but I looked like a teenager who rolled out of bed.
I flung the door open and rushed out, dropping my keys right as I was about to get in my car. Growling in frustration, I grabbed them and yanked the door open, slamming it right into my shin.