“What the hell Charli?!” Drake says, re-wrapping the towel around his torso as Charli walks in. “I’m sorry, I thought you were still in the shower, I was just going to c***k the door to ask what you wanted to eat but since your here . . .” She tells him, closing the door behind her, while her eyes rake over his body shamelessly. “Charli!” Drake calls, drawing her attention back to his face, “ . . . I’m trying to get dressed.” he says, hinting at her to get out without actually saying the words.
“I know, I won't look.” She says, sitting on the edge of the bed with her back turned towards him, and he lets out an exasperated sigh. “It’s Italian.” She notes, waiting for his reply. “Get me a fettuccine Alfredo with like 6 sides of meat balls.” He tells her, taking his clothes into the bath
