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Derek was trying so hard to hold his laughter. He was so used to pulling his clothes off the moment he walked into his room that he forgot that someone was there with him today.

“We’re going downstairs for dinner. We eat our meals together here. We can shower after dinner,” he randomly pulled out a sweatpant.

“We?” Gemma couldn't stop herself from asking.

“What the heck is wrong with this man!”

“Yeah, we shower after dinner….Separately,” he added, smiling at the mortified young lady.

“Why are your hands out in the air like you touched something contagious,” he asked, raising an eyebrow at Gemma who didn't know what to do with her hand.

“I…I,” she stuttered, bringing her hand down but avoiding touching herself.

“Want me to help you cut it off?” Derek teased her.

Her gaze went to him and she glared at him.

“Let's go have dinner,” he smiled.

“I wonder what you'll use to eat, considering how your hand has been contaminated by my…”

“Don't…” Gemma stopped him from saying the last word

He
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