Part Two

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A thunderous knock shatters the morning quiet, jolting me awake. I groan, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as the persistent banging grows louder. With an annoyed sigh, I reluctantly throw off the warm duvet, my frustration mounting with each step toward the bedroom door.

Ripping it open, I confront Scott, his tousled brown hair and furrowed brow contrasting sharply with the early morning light filtering through the hallway. Leaning casually against the doorframe, his arms folded across his chest, he meets my gaze with those intense brown eyes.

"What the hell?" I snap, barely concealing my irritation. "It's too damn early for this. What do you want? Doesn't my silence scream 'leave me alone'?"

He raises an eyebrow, unfazed by my crankiness. Suppressing the urge to be outright rude, I force a composed expression.

"Can I use your bathroom?" he asks calmly. I arch an eyebrow in disbelief. "Jessica's hogging the downstairs shower. She's in a rush for her class, which begs the question: why aren't you dressed yet?"

Glancing down at my plain black boxers, I shrug nonchalantly. "Oh, sorry, didn't realize you were my dad now. Why not use the same bathroom since you're her boyfriend?" I fold my arms, a touch of sarcasm in my tone. "Isn't that what couples do these days? Shower together?"

His smirk widens into a grin, a familiar dimple appearing on his left cheek. He moistens his lips casually, eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Look at you, knowing the drill," he teases, his gaze unwavering. "Your mom tasked me with waking you up, and here I am. Jessica's taking forever, and I'm in a hurry. So, I was thinking... since she's busy downstairs, why not share a shower with me? You know, since we already shared saliva—"

Reacting on instinct, I grab his arm and pull him into my room, the door slamming shut a tad too forcefully. He stumbles and smirks at me when I turn around to face him.

I jab a finger at him accusingly. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" I demand through gritted teeth. "Are you trying to get me into trouble? Because if that's your game, you're messing with the wrong guy. I'll rip your nutsack off and feed it to you in spaghetti form. Don't test me."

Scott meets my glare with a smirk that only fuels my anger. He always finds amusement in serious moments, and it infuriates me. "Okay, first, that was hot. Second, super aggressive. Thirdly, did I mention hot?"

This Monday morning couldn't get any worse. I officially hate Mondays. And Scott. I groan, burying my face in my hands before dragging them down in frustration.

I shoot him a withering look. Just because we shared a kiss doesn't mean he can do as he pleases. "Just..." I trail off, jabbing my finger towards the bathroom door. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. "Go take a shower and for once, shut up."

He disregards my command, sauntering towards me, his gaze never leaving mine. Scott halts in front of me, forcing me to tilt my head back slightly to meet his gaze; he's a little taller than me. His cologne envelops me, an unexpected familiarity amidst the tension.

"What if I don't want to shower alone?" he murmurs, his voice low and teasing.

I roll my eyes, exasperated. "Seriously?" I retort. "Then I guess this morning just got a whole lot worse for you."

Scott chuckles softly, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. He leans in closer, his breath warm against my ear. "Come on, Zayn," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "You can't deny there's something between us."

I swallow hard, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach. "This is not the time or place," I mutter, my voice wavering slightly despite my attempt to sound firm.

His hand brushes lightly against mine, sending a jolt of electricity through me. "When will it be the right time then?" he whispers, his gaze intense and searching.

I hesitate, torn between the rush of attraction and the turmoil of emotions swirling inside me. "I... I don't know," I admit finally, my voice barely above a whisper.

Scott's expression softens, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. "I'm not trying to make things difficult for you," he says sincerely. "But I can't pretend that kiss meant nothing."

I bite my lip, feeling the weight of his words and the undeniable pull between us. "We can't keep doing this," I say quietly, more to myself than to him. "It's complicated enough already."

He nods slowly, his gaze never leaving mine. "I know," he replies softly. "But I also know I can't just walk away."

I place my hands on his chest, intending to shove him away, but he grabs both of my wrists and pins my hands above my head. His face dives into the crook of my neck, sending a jolt through me.

Scott starts kissing the soft part of my neck, and I struggle to stifle a moan. He presses his body against mine, creating a tantalizing friction.

"S-Scott..." I manage to say between breaths, "stop. This isn't right. Jessica could walk in any moment."

He pauses, looking at me with those captivating brown eyes. His tongue brushes against my lips as he grins. "I'll stop, my squirrel," he murmurs, his voice husky. "But you can't deny you want this too."

I swallow hard, torn between desire and guilt. "We can't do this," I insist, though my resolve weakens with each passing second.

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against mine. "Just one more kiss," he whispers, his breath warm against my skin. "Then I'll go."

I hesitate, caught in the intensity of his gaze and the magnetic pull between us. Finally, unable to resist, I meet his lips in a brief, heated kiss.

To my relief, Scott backs away, leaving a sudden chill in the air where his presence was just moments ago. He nods, lifting two fingers to his temple in a casual salute before disappearing behind the bathroom door.

What the hell just happened? I exhale deeply, trying to process the unexpected encounter.

I walk over to my nightstand and grab my phone, pressing my right thumb on the home button to unlock the screen. Jason has sent a few text messages, asking why I've been distant and why I haven't replied to his texts.

Biting my bottom lip, I hesitate over whether to tell him about what happened between Scott and me. Part of me wants to keep it a secret, a shared moment between us.

We've agreed to keep our kiss under wraps.

This situation is beyond messed up.

After a few minutes, I descend the stairs and follow the enticing aroma of bacon and French toast wafting from the kitchen.

Of course, just my luck, I find Jessica seated at the kitchen island, engaged in conversation with our mother. I lean against the wall, letting out a heavy sigh of apprehension.

Casually entering the kitchen with a forced grin, both turn their heads to look at me.

"Oh, hey, little one," Jessica greets with a grin, taking a bite of her bacon. Her gaze drifts over me, and she furrows her brow. "Why aren't you dressed yet?"

I hesitate briefly before answering, "Just came down for breakfast first. That's all."

Trying not to appear too bothered, I sigh and settle onto a bar stool.

Mom shakes her head, her blonde curls bouncing lightly. "If your sister leaves without you, don't come crying to me. And don't deny it; you always do."

Jessica smirks knowingly. Damn, being the eldest must have its perks. I roll my eyes as I reach across the counter to snag a piece of bacon. "I won't be calling anybody," I retort, biting into the bacon and managing not to roll my eyes again. "I'm eighteen, for Christ's sake!"

My mother opens her mouth, ready to deliver a witty remark, when Scott strides into the kitchen. "So babe, I had this weird dream last night..."

He halts in his tracks, locking eyes with me. A mischievous smirk plays on his lips as he adjusts a gleaming gold watch on his wrist. I roll my eyes for what feels like the umpteenth time and take a deliberate bite of the mouthwatering bacon.

"You always have weird dreams," my sister replies, her voice laced with a seductive smile directed at Scott.

I wish I hadn't witnessed that exchange.

Rolling my eyes again at their flirtation, I'm caught off guard as Scott responds, "well, that's because someone is always on my mind." He leans in to kiss her, but his eyes hold mine as he does so.

I freeze, unsure where to look. Sarah busies herself at the stove, her back turned to us.

My sister blushes lightly. "Stop it," she whispers, straightening his crisp white shirt, "dreams can mean something, you know? You should pay attention."

"Yeah," my mother chimes in with a nod. "I remember having this dream once where I walked into a wall, and the very next day, it happened!"

Laughter fills the room, but I sit silently, munching on my breakfast. This whole scene feels painfully awkward.

Scott's gaze returns to me, mischief glinting in his intense green eyes. "Maybe I want to believe it's just a dream, Zayn," he says, drawing everyone's attention to me. "Especially since you seem to have these dreams about certain people."

I flush, fully understanding the meaning behind his words. The room falls into an uneasy silence, all eyes on me, waiting for a response.

Glaring at Scott, trying to regain my composure, I stumble over my words. "Uh, were you in the REM stage?" I blurt out awkwardly. "You know, when most dreams occur? Brain activity is high, eyes darting behind closed lids—it's, um, like a... you know what, I've got to get ready. See you in ten!"

I waste no time darting out of the kitchen, the tension unbearable standing there, trying to explain myself while they scrutinize me, feels excruciating. Scott knew exactly what he was doing, and it's not fair. I clench my fists in frustration. He's so going to regret this today.

Throughout the morning, he continues with his taunts and smirks, making jokes when no one else is looking. It's clear he's trying to provoke a reaction from me.

And unfortunately, he's succeeding.

Bit by bit.

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