"I said paint the walls, not your face Bolly." Alex has been in the bathroom for five minutes now trying to rub the primer off her cheek. "I was painting the walls, Gene. Until you decided to paint me."
"Did not."
"Did too." she groused, throwing the cloth down. Little spots were left, clinging for dear life. Alex opens the door to find him leaning against the frame, arms folded against his chest and legs crossed. Even in loafers he towered over her which was a weird feeling.
She doesn't wear heels to paint. A fact that had caused much consternation when she'd shown up at his house in a ratty jumper and jeans.
He sniffs, rubs his nose. "You missed a spot."
"I know. Get back to work."
"Oi, Bossykecks this is my house."
"And this is my afternoon off, now mush." His eyebrows climb into his hairline. Dear god she's even starting to talk like him.
"Please move?" she tries again. Gene lets her pass, and Alex spends the rest of the day staring at white wall and trying to ignore that Gene has been looking at her face in consternation and not her ass.
