That Boy (Book 1)

Chapter 15

I want to make out with Paul...................

the question is who wouldn't want too?!

People who suck that's who

Whoa that was messed up 

Lol Enjoy!

Chapter 15 - Treat me like you did the night before

I woke up around 9:30 the next morning, not naked or in bed with Paul, thank god, just in the guest bed with the clothes from last night still on. Any normal person would think that we did a lot of a, lets call it grown up fun, last night but nope. That's not how things went down.

Basically, this is what happened. Maybe not exactly but close enough.

Lets see, I'll start where I finished off last.

"I did." Paul spoke with sincerity. I looked into those eyes for one second and I was trapped. Paul didn't have to move or talk but I knew. I knew this friend thing wasn't going to work out very well.

My hand moved on top of his, sliding across the counter, and over his. I wrapped my fingers in his, but my eyes didn't flicker away or even blink. His fingers moved with my own.

"Happy birthday Paul." I spoke after a minute of quietness.

"You didn't get me anything." He said and I knew exactly what he was getting at.

"Oh on the contrary Paul." I told his face with amusement, "I do have something for you." He raised his eyebrow, waiting for an answer. So I leaned over and kissed his square on the lips, really quickly, and pulled away.

"I could use more of those." Paul looked like he could hardly talk, so surprised that I kissed him first. I laughed quietly and kissed him again. This time for longer. I felt his hand move from my hand to my face. Paul just lightly touched my face, in a loving way. So when I pulled away again, Paul left his hand on my cheek. Just feeling my skin with thumb and fingers. Like he was memorizing it.

Maybe he was.

My hand went on top of his. I loved those busted fingers, torn from playing the bass all the time. For the third, and final time, I place my lips on Paul's. But I didn't pull my lips away so quickly yet. Paul got into it really fast, a little too fast for me.

Paul stood, pulling me up with him, our lips still hooked together. Paul and I stumbled to the couch were I fell into it first and him on top of me. We kissed and kissed unable to stop. My legs wrapped around his lower half, but I hardly noticed.

"Oh Paul!" I moaned softly in his ear as his kisses moved from my lips and down my neck. I can't tell you how wonderful I felt. How far I wanted to go. But it hit me like a brick in the middle of all that fun.

I was about to get it on with Paul.

How could I not notice before? Well when you making out with a Beatle then you'll understand.

So I shoved Paul off of me, forcing way from me. And getting up, I ran to the guest room and locked the door. My back held the door shut, and I figured I went to bed after that.

We got pretty close, but I refused to let that happen. Not then, not ever, not with Paul.

I still laid on the bed, silently breathing inward and out. How could I go out there and face Paul? There is no way I could do that. But I couldn't stay in that bedroom forever. I just had to suck it up and act like nothing ever happened.

What was I thinking the first place?! I need to have a conversation with myself of why I act like a bitch one day, a friend one day, and a slut the next. Maybe Paul got hit his head and forgot about everything. That would be a sweet dream.

But nope.

Well, I just got out of the bed and made the covers back into their original position, before leaving the room. I slipped out of the room, quietly closing the door behind me, and moving down the hallway normally. Noise was coming from the kitchen, the sound of cooking eggs and bacon. The smell was growing as I came closer and closer.

When I peered around the corner, I saw George at the stove frying food and Paul sitting at the table, sipping coffee and reading the newspaper. From were I was standing, Paul could see me if he looked up from the newspaper.

"Good morning." I said with a yawn, drawing attention from both boys.

"Mornin Holly." George responded before turning back to the food. Paul went back to his coffee and paper with no responce. I poured my own cup of coffee and sat on the chair to the right of Paul, not looking at him but feeling his stare burn into my skin.

I wanted to say something, though at the same time I didn't, my mouth just stayed shut because George stood a few feet behind me. So, I just finally looked up and matched the stare coming from those hazel eyes. But he looked back down at the newspaper before any message could be sent between our stares.

Then George walked over and set three plates down, one in front of me, Paul, and at George's seat. Fried egg and four strips of bacon sat in the plate ahead of me. It looked pretty good actually. And it was!

I thanked George for the food and told him it was good, which he took happily, and we ate in silence. Paul had placed the paper on the counter and ate with his eyes on the food. I kept my own eyes on my food as well. Then I heard laughter.

When I looked up, at the same time as Paul, I realized George was the one laughing. At what? I didn't know.

"What's so funny?" This was the first time I had heard Paul's voice since I woke. It sounded tired, like he hadn't slept all night.

"You two." George could hardly say those two words as he pointed at us with his fork. I looked from Paul to George and back a few times.

"What do you mean?" I asked before Paul did.

George managed to calm down before he spoke again, "You guys are so much more alike then you know. You guys were eating like you were twins with the same minds or something." George still let little giggles escape his lips while we went back to eating. I kind of got what he was talking about. Both Paul and I ate the same. Bringing our forks to our mouths at the same time.

What was so funny about that? It was more cute really.

Finally, we were able to finish the food and, through much debate, I did the dishes. Then George went to the bathroom to take a shower and left it to Paul to take me home. Which would be the most awkward thing ever.

So silently, we both walked to Paul's car. I sat in the front as usual. And Paul sat in the driver seat, stuck the keys in the ignition, and began the drive forward. I kept my eyes toward the sun, out of the passager window. And when we got close to my apartment, Paul was the first to speak.

"I'm guessing we can never talk about last night ever again." He said, holding his gaze with the road.

"Yup." Was my simple reasonse. I turned my head towards him, "Lets just be friends ok? No hating, no kissing, just friends." Thats really what I wanted. Well, at the moment anyway.

But Paul never responded to that. Maybe he just couldn't do that. And I know why.