Joshua Wilkins: Arranged Marriage

Chapter 7: Joshua

“The whole thing is weird, unnerving, bizarre, strange-”

“That’s enough thesaurus,” Christian said on the other end of the phone. “Instead, tell me what the matter is.”

“It feels like a business transaction.” My voice was hushed as I looked towards the bathroom door, where light streamed out from underneath.

After dinner, she had wandered around, possibly to get familiar with the place, but it seemed off. Now she was in the bathroom getting ready for the night.

“It is,” he answered, “a contract which extends the next eight months, and then you’ll be rid of her.”

“I had counted on that, and I know that’s how I feel. However, it seems like she thinks that way too.” I wanted to work! “At dinner, she discussed our relationship like a contract.” The word "relationship" contorted in my mouth.

“Good,” said the ever-enthusiastic Christian Howard. “That means she won’t get her feelings involved, and that is for the best.”

He was right. If we could just co-exist for the next eight months, that would be the best course of action. That way it wouldn’t get messy once I didn’t need her anymore.

“You’re right,” I said, though I couldn’t shake the feeling I got when I saw her looking at the ring. “I’m being stupid. It is a business transaction, and I should treat it as such.”

“That’s the spirit. Don’t go soft on me, Wilkins. Remember, women are nothing but trouble-”

“Unless they’re down on their knees.” I don’t expect you to bend the knee for anyone. I had a feeling I would never see Lydia on her knees, and I doubted anyone else had.

“Olympus tomorrow?” Christian almost sounded indifferent, like he really didn’t care if I showed up.

“See you then.” I heard the beep as he canceled the call.

I threw my phone on the nightstand on top of the charger station. It meant I didn’t have to plug in my phone, just place it on the station.

With quick strides, I walked around the bed and neared the bathroom door. She had been in there for ages. How long could it take? I sighed as I heard the sound of running water. It wasn’t the shower, it was the sink.

Before I could stop myself, I reached up and knocked on the door. “Are you almost done? I’m going to have to insist on another bathroom if you’re taking this long.” My voice sounded annoyed, which I was. I hadn’t lived with anyone since I stayed with my grandparents at Wilkins House.

“You do have one,” her voice was muffled by the closed door, but also because she had something in her mouth. “It’s right down the hall.”

A groan left my throat. Were all women this annoying? “You must be decent enough to let me in. I have an early morning.”

I heard some muffling on the other side of the door before I heard the click of the lock coming undone.

When I opened the door and saw her, my body froze. She was bent over the sink rinsing her mouth after brushing her teeth. Her long—very long—hair cascaded over her shoulders and tried to get into the sink. She was wearing a worn-down grey t-shirt which went down to her upper thigh, I had pictured her as a nightgown type of girl, which showed the endless length of her toned legs.

She stood upright again and put her toothbrush in our shared mug before glancing over at me. The small layer of makeup was off, showing a shitload of freckles. Perfection. That was the only word that could describe her.

“Why don’t you take a picture, it’ll last longer.” With those words, my trance ended.

I walked over to the counter and pulled off my belt. Nothing but a business transaction. She continued her routine by grabbing a brush and starting to untangle the mane of her hair.

With my belt off, I was able to untuck my shirt. I opened the cuff links and started unbuttoning from the top down. I looked at myself in the mirror, saw my hair was slightly tousled, saw my eyes filled with determination, saw my body still working and still taking on tasks when the only thing I really wanted was to go lay in my bed, getting hugged by the covers and drifting off to dreamland.

The shrug of my shoulders made the shirt fall off, and I placed it on the counter, now standing shirtless in front of her. I tried not to look at her as she kept on brushing her beautiful long hair. But I thought I could feel her gaze on me, on my body.

I was gifted with good genes. Getting toned and muscular had always been easy for me. Perfection. I resembled her that way. My strong shoulders turned into the broadness of my chest, bulging over my chiseled abs. The perfect body for the perfect man.

With the running water, I cleaned my hair of the gel, making it wet and even more tousled. With a quick dry from a towel, my hair was just as messy as it was every night. My fade stopped just above my ears but dipped a little lower on the back. My haircut had been the same for the past ten years. I liked it; it was easy to maintain.

She put down her brush into the drawer she had overtaken. Before she closed it, she quickly grabbed a hair tie and started braiding her hair loosely.

I picked up my toothbrush and wetted it before putting on toothpaste. When I started brushing my teeth, she started smearing some type of lotion on her skin. After she was done with that, she finally let out a sigh and left the bathroom. I would hate my life if I had a bedtime routine that lasted forty-five minutes too.

I finished getting ready and put on some sweats, just so I wouldn’t feel too bare. I turned off the light in the bathroom and shut the door before entering the bedroom. She was texting someone, which made the corner of her mouth twitch, giving her just a hint of amusement.

“Do you prefer a side?” She was sitting in the middle of the bed, so naturally, I had to ask.

She looked up at me from her phone, and I saw her looking, I felt her looking. “I was going to ask you the same,” she gestured towards her place on the bed, “that’s why I’m here.”

“I don’t care,” I shrugged, and she simply moved furthest from the bathroom door, making it possible for me to just get under the covers. “Do you need me to set an alarm?” I asked her as I turned on my own alarm for six-thirty.

“No, I have it covered.” She locked her phone before she shut off her light and laid down under the covers. She turned her back against me and put herself in a fetal position. “Good night.”

I looked over at her, looked at the cover underneath her arm, and the long braid nuzzled against her back. I heard her breathing, and how she tried to control it into a soothing rhythm.

Okay then. I scooted further under the covers and turned off the lights on my side. The room was engulfed in darkness. My back was against the mattress, and my eyes lingered on what my mind thought was a shadow. However, no light got in because of my blackout curtains and the seal in both doors.

I took a deep breath, letting the air into my lungs, feeling how my chest rose with the air. As it released into the darkness into the night, I felt myself coming to terms with this arrangement, actually feeling kind of optimistic about tomorrow.

**

I woke up to an empty bed. During the night, I must have scooted over to her side or taken it over when she left. My glance found the alarm clock. 5:50. Where was she? She did move in yesterday, right?

I sat up in the bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. My hand found the button, and the curtains withdrew from the windows, revealing that the sun only just had started to contemplate making an appearance.

Slowly, I worked my way to the closet, where I could see all her clothes hanging. She was definitely here. But where?

I pulled a white t-shirt over my head before making my way out into the hallway. I looked into the common room, hearing Sasha humming already behind the kitchen counter, probably getting a head start on breakfast. But no Lydia.

I strolled back down the hallway when I heard it. The grunting. The troubled breaths. I pushed open the door into my gym, where she was full-speed running on the treadmill. In nothing but training shorts and a sports bra. Her long legs moved fast, her breathing troubled but controlled, and the music pumping through her headphones. I could hear the small beats from the bass.

When she noticed me, she stopped and opened her water bottle. Her headphones fell down around her neck, and a smirk crept onto her face. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty, finally chose to join the rest of the world?”

“When did you get up?” My voice sounded scratchy, as it always did first thing in the morning.

“A quarter to four.” She took another sip before turning off the treadmill.

As she stepped down from it, I saw her glistening skin shining from the beads of sweat. She looked like the lioness that she was, the incredibly strong and resilient being that she was.

“What in God’s name do you do so early?” A yawn from me distorted the last word.

“Like I told you,” she stopped right in front of me, “I have to work for my body.”

I couldn’t help but look at her. How her toned arms and shoulders gave way to the muscles in her chest. Her stomach was also toned, not to a six-pack level, but still lean and muscular. Her legs were big and strong, which I—for some odd reason—found incredibly sexy.

“It looks good.” The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them, making heat crawl onto my face. Am I blushing? Not possible.

“Is that drool?” She lifted her hand towards my face while mischief played in her expression. When I grabbed her hand, stopping it from touching my face, I could feel her pulse; beating like an unstoppable drum in her veins. “Be careful, fiancé, we wouldn’t want you falling too hard too fast.”

I squinted my eyes, assessing her. The way she said the word "fiancé" made it seem like an insult. “Trust me, dearest, I will not be falling anywhere.”

She wrenched her hand out of mine before giving me a challenging look. “Step aside.”

Don’t bite. Don’t bite. Don’t bite! “Or?”

She stepped even closer to me, so close I could feel the heat emanating from her. Her fiery green eyes looked straight into mine. If looks could kill. I hadn’t yet seen green fire, but the hatred—and disgust—burned so uncontrollably in her eyes.

“Or I will remove you.”

Towering over her, almost an entire foot above her, weighing almost double, I doubted she could move me. However, I knew it would only make her hate me more. So I stepped aside, letting her pass me.

I went back into the bedroom, where I could hear her inside the bathroom. I felt stupid for provoking her. I felt childish for provoking her. I felt like a caveman for provoking her. It was unnecessary and would only make this whole arrangement more difficult.

My ass hit the bed again as I slumped under the covers and grabbed my phone. First checking emails, then messages, then my calendar. Mondays were already long, and when I looked at my calendar, it got longer. Board meetings. Meeting with my grandfather. Meeting with the COO of Techins. It would never end.

The door opened, letting the steam out from inside. She had clearly showered. Her hair up in an updo with the towel and wearing some fuzzy robe, she strode right past me.

“Lydia,” I groaned, letting my hands slide across my face, “we need to talk.”

“Talk about what?” She went into the closet, which meant I had to follow her.

I rose from the bed and stalked in after her. She rummaged through the drawers, trying to find where she put her stuff last night.

“I think we should try to find some common ground,” I crossed my arms, feeling more in control of myself and my body like that. “This,” I gestured between us, “will be way easier if we can get along.”

She stopped in her tracks, looking down in a drawer. A groan left her lips before she turned around to look at me. “I’ve never lived with anyone before,” the words came out quick, like shots from a machine gun, “except for my parents and brother, of course.” She hugged herself. “I’m used to doing my own thing, I’m used to my stuff being in specific places, I’m used to my own schedule and routine. I feel like you’re getting in my way, and not to talk to me but to belittle me, and it annoys me.”

My brows furrowed. I belittled her? “I apologize. I never meant to annoy you.” I loosened my position and looked straight into her eyes, feeling a boost of confidence from her. “I haven’t lived with anyone either,” I shrugged my shoulders, “I’ve lived on my own since college, and it feels weird to have someone intrude on my space-”

“I get that,” something tugged at the corner of her mouth, “believe me, I do.” She took a step forward to me. “Maybe we just need time to acclimate.”

“Perhaps.”

“I’m not a morning person,” she admitted, and I saw some color flash across her cheeks, “it might seem like it because I have this routine, but I’m really not, and definitely not some kind of conversationalist.”

Something inside me turned, but not in a bad way. She’s opening up. And I appreciated it. That way this could go much smoother, and we could more easily get along.

“Noted,” I nodded and sent her a small smile, “no big conversations in the morning.” She let go of herself, not hugging her body anymore. “I’ll go occupy the bathroom.”

“Sure.” She turned around again, and I let her be. I said nothing more to her that morning than goodbye when she left.