I'd be lying if I said I got enough sleep that day. I rolled in the bed until Nick started snoring again. But the difference this time was that Clay didn't show any signs of being awake, which kind of frustrated me. How is he so calm after what happened?

I could see the curtains becoming lighter and lighter in shade, indicating how quickly the time passed. When I finally slept, I could hear Clay and Nick getting up. They didn't wake me though, which I very much appreciated.

I was still very much conscious and knew that I had to get up at some point, because we had to go shopping, and I didn't trust them enough to let them go by themselves. Knowing them a bit was enough for me to also know that they would most likely get all the wrong products.

So with my last bits of strength I opened my eyes. The familiar room was empty.

I was half asleep while brushing my teeth, and only came back to reality after a splash of some cold water on my face. I went through the effort of taking off the black rings that formed around my eyes from mascara too, and when I was finally done, Nick entered the bathroom.

He was shirtless, with a towel hanging from his shoulder. I get that he thought I'd be asleep and didn't expect me here, but the way he reacted (or should I say the way he didn't react at all) made me realize that being shirtless around people didn't bother him that much.

"Morning, Liz." He put the towel on the washing machine and proceeded to turn on the shower.

"Uh, hi."

Why did I have the feeling that if I stayed for any longer he'd take off his pants too and shower infront of me.

I left quietly and closed the door behind me, wondering if he'd bother to lock the door behind me or not. Probably not.

Anyways.

I wanted to go back to the bedroom and get changed, not expecting Clay to be there putting on a shirt.

Enough shirtless men for today.

Why do I always walk myself into things like this.

"Sorry-" It wasn't the first time I saw him shirtless but it still felt wrong.

"I'm done, we're good." He pulled the shirt down, covering his V-line.

He hasn't done anything, and I still feel attacked. What is wrong with me.

"Can you leave for a sec? I need to change and Nick's in the bathroom." I didn't have enough energy to take my clothes all the way to the living-room.

He nodded but didn't take a step. I tried to walk past him to dig through my bag and find the appropriate clothing I needed, but as I was about to pass him, he grabbed my hand to stop me. Not even my wrist. My hand.

Instinctively my hand curled up in a fist, squeezing his fingertips in the process. I took a step back and looked up at him.

"Yeah?" I didn't know why was his hand still wrapped around mine.

"Did you sleep well?" I didn't know what was the point of his question. I doubt it had a deeper meaning.

"Uh, yeah?" I lied but that wasn't the point. The conversation was going painfully slow, and the pain got ten times more intense considering the fact that he was holding my hand.

"How are you?"

What the hell is going on.

"I'm alright, thank you," I loosened my fist, realizing that I was creating more touching surface that way, "what's going on?"

"Just checking on you.. nothing really." The thing was, he didn't even look flustered. He acted like the whole thing was normal.

"And do you need to hold my hand for that?" I raised a brow.

"Not for that.." His grip on my hand became even stronger. Before I knew, he pulled me closer to him, his other hand going up to cup the side of my neck, "For this."

I was sure he could feel my pulse from both my neck and wrist quickening with his every single move. By the time he leaned down to my face level, all I could hear was my own heartbeat.

I wanted to push him away because I heard the water stop around a minute ago, and knew for a fact that this wasn't going to go well. But I didn't have enough power to do so.

He didn't cut the distance between us completely, stopping when our lips were a centimeter away, requesting me to do it myself as a form of consent.

I squeezed his hand and was about to lean all the way in before I heard the door open.

I knew this was going to happen. I just knew it.

The way I fell right back to my feet from my tip toes was equivalent to having a nightmare of falling into a dark pit. Obviously we couldn't push each other away completely and were still standing questionably close to each other.

"What the.." and Nick didn't even try to make things seem better, "are y'all..?"

"Why are you in just a towel?" I knew what Clay was doing. I took the opportunity to get away from him.

"What was going on here-"

"You could've at least wrapped the towel a bit higher," I was the one to interrupt him this time, "jeez, cover up.." my goal was to make him uncomfortable enough to shut up.

"I just walked in on you two-"

"No one needed to see your wet chest hair," Clay sounded very offended and serious, "this is inappropriate."

"You're just jealous because you can't even grow facial hair."

And there we go, successfully changing the topic. I let go of a deep breath and grabbed my clothes, leaving them there to argue.

I knew for a fact that Nick wasn't going to let it slip, but finding a distraction for that moment gave me the opportunity to flee and leave the whole pressure on Clay.