Preacher Man // ross lynch + driver era

13

"Can I ask you a question?" I softly ask him. He's sitting normally on the couch, my back against the armrest, my legs laying over his and I'm leaning into him. Ross nods, his hand running softly through my hair. "What's going on with you and Sarah?"

He looks down at me and shakes his head. "Absolutely nothing."

"Why were you holding her hand at the mall? I promise if you want to be with her, that's perfectly okay. I don't want to scare you, but I need to know where we stand, okay?" I mumble out, my drunk mind slowly becoming sober. I never would've said this if I was sober. I've known Ross for a few weeks, why does it feel like months?

Ross lifts my chin up to keep eye contact with me. "She told me she wanted more with me. I just used to sleep with her, but I haven't since the day of the frat party. She grabbed my hand and tried convincing me to be with her. That she was better than you and all this other unnecessary shit. I'm done with her, I promise."

I nod, "I appreciate you telling me."

"I'd tell you anything, just ask, okay?" He mumbles, leaning down and pressing a delicate kiss to my forehead. "I have never met any girl that I genuinely wanted to get to know. I want to know you, every piece of you. I'm trying my best to be good for you. I hope you know that. I would never jeopardize that with someone like Sarah."

I bring my body closer to his while nodding. "I know, I'm trying too. I'm just happy to know where we stand. That you want me."

"Oh baby, I want you in so many ways," he laughs, a smile on his face. Blush creeps up onto my cheek and I lean my head down on his chest, avoiding his eye contact. "Thanks for showing me I don't need to have sex every other day to feel good about myself. Even just the simplest of kisses from you make my whole day," he rambles, his hand going over his face in embarrassment of the raw confession.

I lean forward, pulling his hand away from his face and kissing him gently. He smiles, kissing me back before I literally gasp into his mouth.

"I got you a present! Stay here," I instruct and run into my bedroom. I pull out the envelope that has the tickets inside.

I walk back into the living room, his eyes watching my every move. I decide on where to sit and to my surprise (and his), I climb onto his lap and look down at him. "You didn't have to get me anything. I have something for you at my house though," he smiles, his hands moving to my waist.

I shrug, "I wanted to." I hand him the envelope and watch him open it.

Ross gasps, his eyes reading over the ticket name. "Are you serious? You're nuts. This is too much, you spent too much on this," he says, pushing the tickets back into my hands.

I shake my head, "Yes, I'm serious. I know how much you listen to the Weeknd and love him."

He smiles at me and quickly pushes the tickets aside, his hands grabbing my cheeks. He pushes his mouth to mine, his hand fisting the fabric bunched up at my back. His lips are cool, his mouth tasting like mint and comfort. His actions are full of hunger with his hands gripping at me like I'm going to slip out of his grasp. My fingers thread through his hair while tugging at it gently.

We pull away moments after, the heat between us growing each second. "I'm sorry, I needed to do that," he whispers, his forehead laying against me. I take in breaths – attempting to calm down my erratic heartbeat.

I smile, placing my hand over his cheek before leaning down and laying my head in the crook of his neck. I close my eyes and listen to his breathing. "I haven't felt this comfortable in so long," I mumble into his skin.

Ross attempts to look down at me and I peak an eye open to see his smile. He leans down and kisses the top of my head multiple times.

"How about we make a deal?" He hums, his head pressed against the top of the brown couch. I nod into his body. "How about you take a shower and a nap then once you're all sobered up, you come to my parent's for dinner?"