I was tossing and turning for most of the night that when I did finally get some rest, I was thrown into such a slumber that the next morning I slept straight through my 7 a.m. alarm. I woke up at quarter to nine or so and I’d already missed my 8am class. If I hurried, I could make my Tuesday Spanish Lit class at 9:30.

Rushing around and all the while swearing at Chandler for his late night activities, I quickly wiggled out of my lingerie, grabbed a towel and padded down the hall to jump in the shower. I rinsed off quickly then turned the water off to shave my legs.

My host mom had thoroughly drilled into me the fact that Spain was in a drought, and as a result, we needed to turn the water off for whenever we were doing anything non-shower related.

So, like a good little water conservationist, I turned the water off and applied shaving gel, all the while ruminating and scolding myself like I usually did. If I wasn’t careful, I could head back toward full-on depression mode, negative self-talk and all. Even though I recognized myself-chiding thoughts, I couldn’t stop them.

I’d missed class in just my second week and it was all Chandler’s fault. This damn guy. I had only met him for fifteen minutes during breakfast, and yet, he had my blood boiling.

Maybe I was just jealous of him and the fact that he actually takes care of his girl. Shouldn’t a guy want to screw his girlfriend for an hour every night? Or at least every once in awhile? Talking about sex with Scott had become a huge area of contention between us—or rather, not talking about what was off lately. I had no problem talking about anything or trying new things in bed but Scott was putting it all on me—shutting me out—and that wasn’t fair.

I ground my teeth. Thinking about Scott and Chandler’s good or bad character or bedroom prowess was pointless. I felt powerless in both situations, and it only served to infuriate me more.

Suddenly, through the haze of my rumination, I heard water running in the bathroom.

Was someone else in the bathroom?

My heart beat out of my chest as I peeled the curtain back and peeked.

A broad-shouldered man stood with his boxers pulled half down his ass as he peed. It was quite a nice ass, too.

I heard the sound of a solid stream of water running into the toilet.

Chandler.

Of course asshole roommate would just barge in! Did this guy even knock?! I fumed, getting exasperated that he acted like he owned the place and had zero consideration for anyone else in the apartment! The door was freaking closed!

I’m a very nice person until you cross me. And this asshole was about to get a strong dosage of Bitch Amy. Coupled with my disaster call with Scott last night, I was going to let Chandler have it.  

I opened my mouth, but then I became flustered the more I noticed his—well, all of him. Suddenly, I couldn’t find the right words to say what I wanted to. And he, apparently, didn’t even see me, off in his own little world while he did his business.

The thud-thud of my heart went faster as I stared at Chandler. Anger mixed with lust as my eyes scanned his body. He was tall with the broadest shoulders I could ever remember seeing. And oh, dear God, those back muscles. He looked like he was flexing as he leaned one hand on the wall. Was he flexing? Who flexes when they are just peeing?

He yawned and let out a loud, low, throaty noise that was close to a growl. I guess he was probably clearing his throat, but this really sounded like he might be imitating a tiger’s low grumble. Finally, his stream ended. I snapped out of my haze, and found the nerve to say something to this entitled asshole.

“Doesn’t anyone knock any more?” I piped up loudly from the shower, my tone seething.

He whipped his body around, facing me. I had my angry face on and used the curtain to cover my body while I glared at him.

“What the fuck? I did knock. Three times,” he shot back in an accusatory tone. “And I said ‘hola, alguien está?’ Did you not hear me?”

My heart dropped to my stomach as I realized that I’d been so far in my own world, I might have not heard him at all. Right about that same moment, my eyes went wide and I couldn’t help but drop them below the Chandler’s waist. I couldn’t look away. I’d seen good ones but my God. This man was blessed by the Almighty Father. And for some reason my eyes lingered on his cock like I was a moth and it was the fire.

“My eyes are up here, by the way,” he said, smirking.

He pulled his boxers up so I couldn’t see the giant one-eyed snake I had been staring at for too many seconds. I brought my eyes upward, to the face of the man who’d been the basis of one of my inward distractions in the shower. My anger momentarily melted away as I stared at his dark blue and green eyes, cocky smile, dark hair, and muscles that rippled from head to toe.

I think my staring impacted my balance, because I suddenly slipped back, beginning to pull the whole shower curtain down with me, the rings ripping off the rungs holding it up.

Chandler saw what was happening and quickly reacted. He jumped toward the shower and grabbed my body through the shower curtain, his huge hands wrapping around my waist and holding me up like I was nothing but a feather. My head was inches from coming into contact with one of the ledges in the shower, and I was breathing hard from all the adrenaline being pumped through my body. I grabbed Chandler’s shoulder for balance. He would have been touching my naked body if not for the thin layer of shower curtain separating us.

“Holy shit,” Chandler whispered, his eyes inches from mine and as wide as they could go. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m okay.” I gripped his shoulder for better balance.

“Careful. Here, let’s get you back on solid ground.” He lifted me up from the slick shower floor and set me on the plush mat. The shower curtain had completely torn off, and was wrapped around me.

“Thanks,” I breathed, my chest heaving.

He glanced inside the shower. “You don’t put the tub mats down?”

“Well, usually I do, but I was a little out of it this morning…”

I swallowed hard and I’m pretty sure I licked my lips, thinking about what to say. Part of me was intimidated by him and that was rare. But as the adrenaline wore off, and I remembered that I was annoyed with him, I knew I had to set the rules of how things were going to go down in this house if we were going to live peacefully for the next couple of months. I had always been someone who spoke her mind, and there was no reason I should back down from Chandler, as much as he put me on edge.

I let go of him and looked him straight in his pretty blue-green eyes. My tone was firm and businesslike. “You know, I usually do put the mats down. But my mind’s been a little funky this morning. I couldn’t fall asleep last night because you and whatever her name is were having extremely loud sex in the room right next to mine.” He opened his mouth, probably to say something to annoy me even more but I cut him off and raised my voice. “And because of you and your late night sexcapades, I couldn’t sleep, and now I missed a class this morning and will probably be late for my next one. Have some thought for the other people that live here. It’s not ‘Chandler World’ and Doña Maria and I just happen to exist in it. Got it?”

I’m sure I looked ridiculous with the shower curtain wrapped around me as I stared up at Chandler. And I do mean stared up, because I’m five foot two, and he was at least a full foot taller than me. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened at my tone. This was the type of man who was used to charming the pants off of any women he met and getting his way. Yes, he was that guy. He needed to know here and now that I wasn’t about to stand for his bullshit.

“Damn,” he finally said, blinking slowly at me. “Tell me how you really feel, why don’t you?”

“Just did,” I said, keeping the shower curtain securely around me. I eyed the door then him. “Now, if you don’t mind, I would appreciate it if you would stop gawking and leave so I can finish my shower.”

His expression changed again from slightly caught off guard back to a cocky smirk. “Gawking, eh?” He raised an eyebrow. “Fine—go ahead and tell me to keep it down so you can sleep. But if there’s one thing I don’t like, it’s a hypocrite.”

I gasped a little in indignation. “A hypocrite?! How am I a hypocrite?”

“Look, Squirt. Listen good. I won’t be told that I can’t gawk at your sexy little body.” He leaned in and lowered his voice to a low throaty tone. “Especially when you just stared at my cock for at least a full five seconds.”

A shiver ran through my body. I was both infuriated at how right he was and by how much I needed for him to get the hell out of the bathroom, lest I get more turned on.

He turned to go, took a step, and looked over his shoulder. “Leave the shower curtain, Squirt. I’ll fix it when I take a shower later today.”

“Why are you calling me Squirt?” I squinted at him.

“Yeah. Squirt. That’s your new nickname. You know, a small, short person.” He pointed to the mat. “Better put the mat down next time, Squirt.”

He winked, turned back, and continued out the door.

“Asshole,” I muttered out loud when he had gone.

The man certainly knew how to get my shower curtains in a bunch.