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Chapter Six

I woke up to the sound of my bus shower running. I blinked the sleep out of my eyes and rolled out of bed. I peeked out of the curtain that cloaked my bed from the rest of the bus. Charley had figured out how to work the hide-a-bed in the sofa and a flowery pink quilt lay tousled on it, along with a sweatshirt with Berkley scrawled across the chest and a teddy-bear with a little stripey shirt on. And this was the security company's best? I thought to myself. Then I saw her open suitcase at the foot of the bed. I inched out from behind my curtained hide-away.

Steam poured out of the partly open bathroom door. My bus bathroom door's been broken as long as I can remember. I probably should've pointed that out to Eddie when he had the guys on board fixing my furniture, but the non-locking bathroom door on the bus has proven to be more of a gift than a curse (I've many a time accidentally walked in on my lady-friends that've stayed on the bus and been rewarded with some hot shower sex thanks to that broken door).

I would not be walking in on Charley.

I peered into her open suitcase, expecting to see some creepy torture/BDSM devices but instead I found a plethora of folded clothes and other typical suitcasey type things. I picked up an iPod and started scrolling through the artists lists. She liked country music. Figures, I thought.

The shower turned off in the bathroom.

I picked up the teddy bear and studied its face.

The bathroom door opened and I looked up to see Charley step out wearing only a towel that was wrapped precariously around her body. Her skin was still soaked and her hair hung in strings down her back. Air caught in my throat again. Well she's certainly not the fat kid anymore, I thought to myself studying her. Rather, Charlotte Avery had become the very, very, very, very sexy kid since the last time I'd seen her - which was when I was like nine.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked.

I realized I was still holding the teddy bear. I thought quick and held it up. "Just collecting evidence for why the security company is wrong about having sent their so-called best," I answered. "What kind of a kick ass body guard sleeps with a teddy bear?"

"What kind of a man shaves with womens' razors?" she asked.

"They work better," I answered. Then I scowled. "Why are you going through my shit?" I asked.

"I could ask you the same question," she replied, pushing by me and snatching the bear out of my hands.

I pointed at the teddy bear, "You're obviously not as tough as you like to think you are," I said.

Charley held her hands out again, "You question how tough I am, then fight me," she demanded.

"You aren't wearing any clothing," I pointed out, "I'm not fighting you when you aren't dressed. God forbid that towel fall off and I get subjected to your ugly bare ass."

"Please, like you didn't just drool the Atlantic ocean when I came out of the bathroom like this," she said, rolling her eyes. She turned to her suitcase and started digging for clothing.

"Yeah right, you wish," I answered. I turned toward the bathroom. "I suppose you used all the damn hot water."

Charley didn't answer. Instead, she pulled a fresh pair of cargo pants and a tiny army-green t-shirt from the depths of her suitcase and reached for the towel. Which she dropped. Right there without any questions asked or any pretense to try to get me to look away. I felt my eyes widen as they landed on the perfect curve of her ass and the length of her legs and the way her back was shaped. Her muscles flexed as she pulled on a tank top and the t-shirt, which clung to her skin, and stepped into a pair of panties. She started to turn around and, not wanting to get busted watching, I quickly ducked into the bathroom and closed the door.

I leaned against the door and took deep breaths, trying to settle myself. My heart was slamming in my chest. Jesus, I thought, there is no denying she's fine. I glanced at the mirror, but I couldn't see shit since it was all steamed up from her damn shower. Blood was rushing to my crotch. I sighed and stripped and reached for the faucet handle. I was right, Charley had used all the damn hot water.

"Freaking bitch," I muttered.

I stepped into the icy cold water and started soaping up my skin, which was quickly covering in goose pimples. If I'd been getting a hard on, it quickly slithered away from the ice cubes that it was being doused with. The water was so cold it almost burned. I daintily worked on getting the soap off and rinsing shampoo out of my hair. I was almost done with the shower when the bathroom door opened and Charley stepped in.

"What the fuck!" I yelled. I hit the faucet and grabbed the one towel she'd left on the rack to cover up with. "What're you doing?" I demanded.

Charley held up a tooth brush she'd adorned with toothpaste. "Don't worry, Carter," she said, waving the brush my direction. "Nothing I haven't seen before. Remember London and France?"

I pulled the towel tighter. "Can you please do that in the kitchenette sink?"

Charley raised an eyebrow. "Aw are you embarassed?"

"Get the hell out."

She smirked. "Okay, fine." Charley paused, "And don't worry, I didn't really see anything. At least not this time." She winked and stepped out of the bathroom, accidentally-on-purpose leaving the door opened behind her. I scrambled out of the shower and slammed it shut.