It was with a light bounce in her step that she made herself comfortable on one of the sofas. Tracey heard the door hit the frame, but didn't hear it shut, which drew her attention. She turned her head out of curiosity and was met with the sight of Oliver's reflection in the mirror. Only half of his upper body was visible, but... my. Once again struck with jealousy, Tracey couldn't help but feel that Jonathan did not deserve that! How could he even fully appreciate all that he had? Tilting her head back, Tracey tried to get a more complete view, but as soon as she did, Oliver stepped away from the door and into the shower. While it was running, Tracey looked about the sitting room and moved over to one of the armchairs that faced the bathroom. When he stepped out, she would have a much better view from here, she told herself, before realising just how much of a pervert she was, trying to catch a glimpse of her stupid cousin's extremely well-built boyfriend in the nude, that had to top a few charts.
When Oliver stepped out of the bathroom, he had a towel around his waist.
Pity... Tracey thought, but quickly picked up a magazine from the coffee table and held it up as though she were reading it, peering up over the top to appreciate the view of a topless and wet Oliver Wood. Her bottom lip popped between her teeth when he stepped into his and Jonathan's bedroom, praying to whatever gods would listen that he please not shut the door.
He didn't.
And then he found pants.
And then his towel fell.
Tracey's eyes and her smile widened, pink rising to her cheeks and she bit her lip a little bit harder to keep from making a sound.
That is a nice backside, she thought loudly, but nothing in the world (short of getting caught) would get her to look away.