Idiots to Lovers (bxb)

3 | Lost Keys and Grandma's Wrestling Career

I followed him down a driveway of a house with a huge pink rose bush by the front door. Everett pushed down on the door handle aggressively, almost hopping as he put his full force behind trying to open it.

"It's likely locked, mate," I said.

"But I don't have a key," he said, looking at me blankly. As if he expected me to magically have the key to his house.

"Why don't you have a key, it's your house," I said with some annoyance. Then a thought came to me and I eyed him suspiciously. "Wait, it is your house, isn't it?"

"Of course it's my house, why would I be breaking into some rando's house?"

"I don't know...I don't know you!" I exclaimed, the realization hitting me suddenly. "You could be some creepy psychopath for all I know. Actually, what normal person just invites themself for a therapy session with a stranger?"

"Oh. I...uh." He paused for a moment, looking contrite. "Look I know you're straight, I didn't mean to make things weird for you. Honestly, I was just bored at the cafe and had a dumb idea."

Oh...he thought I was straight.

"That's not why it's weird. I just don't know you at all," I muttered. It seemed like an inappropriate moment to just go 'actually, I'm pansexual.'

Or maybe he was just hot and I was a coward.

The light breeze was blowing dark curls onto his face. Air filled his cheeks as he attempted to blow the stray locks away. His mouth was rounded into a small 'O' as he did so, making his soft lips look all cute and pouty. He caught me staring and looked back at me unsurely.

"So...are we just locked out here then?" I asked, changing the subject.

"You wanna help me break a window and climb in?"

"Absolutely not."

Forget how hot he was. The boy was clearly unhinged.

Those eyes though.

"Relax dude, I'm kidding." He grinned. Jet-black pupils sparkled under the sun like a midnight sky full of stars. "There's a spare key under one of the stones."

"Great." I pinched my nose; my allergies were acting up.

There was a whole line of decorative stones which Everett started upturning one after the other. Once he had upturned one he carelessly tossed it away instead of placing it back where it belonged. It was starting to get on my nerves.

And my face was starting to itch.

"Let me guess, you don't know what stone it's under," I stated.

Everett glanced up from where he was crouched on the grass. His jeans were stained and his hands were muddy.

"Clementine, your face!" He gasped. "Oh shit- the rose bush. I totally forgot." Everett scrambled to his feet. "Are you dying??"

"It doesn't kill me, I just break out," I grumbled, rubbing my hands on my cheeks.

"Your face is so, so red," he said in amazement. "You look like you're blushing."

"I'm not blushing; I never blush," I snapped.

Just then the front door flew open, revealing an older lady who looked just like Everett. She had the same black curls framing a brown, heart-shaped face. Her hair went down to her waist, held back by a fuzzy pink headband. Her dark, wide eyes were framed with long, thick lashes, and heavily dramatized with mascara.

"My garden!" she yelled, smacking Everett with the gossip magazine she held. "What have you done, child?"

"I couldn't find the key, mum!"