Chapter Twenty-Four

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Pillows, it turned out, were a pain in the ass to make. The instructions sounded simple when I Googled them. I found the fabric I wanted to use, and the fluff to fill the pillow with, easily at Michael's, so I figured it'd be a simple project.

But it wasn't. Because sewing sucked. And my fingers we're starting to look like acupuncture gone bad.

"Damn it!" I cried as I dug the needle into my skin accidentally for the hundredth time.

A knock came on my bedroom door. "Allie?"

"Hold on!" I cried, quickly shoving everything off my bed and repositioning myself on my bed so it looked like I was just relaxing. "Okay."

"What's up?" Paul asked, sticking his head into my room. "I've been hearing you swear for like, the past half hour."

I gestured vaguely toward the television. "Commercials. Always ruin the best part."

"The T.V isn't even on, Allie Cat." The corners of his mouth curved up. "Or did you not realize that?"

Unfortunately, when I glanced at the T.V, it really wasn't on. Laughing awkwardly, I shrugged. "Right, that's because I turned it off when I heard you coming."

"Why?"

"Because I was watching... um, porn..."

Paul raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware I ordered those channels."

"Well, I found one," I told him, schooling my face into something serious. "And I'm disappointed that you watch that stuff."

"Coming from the girl claiming to have been watching it before I came in..."

I shrugged. "Sometimes I get curious."

"Uh-huh," he said skeptically, crossing his arms. "Obviously you're hiding something from me, so just promise it's nothing bad."

"It's nothing bad," I told him with a smile. "Trust me."

"I will. But do you want to take a break? I've gotta run to Walmart and pick up some supplies. I'm sure you need to pick up some stuff too. Ran out of my shampoo today, so I had to use yours," he said, grinning sheepishly.

Rolling my eyes, I slid off my bed. "Did you really?" Once I was close enough, I stood on my tiptoes and sniffed his hair, and yep, that was definitely my shampoo. "Nice, Paul."

Capturing my hand in his, he tugged me out of my room. "Come with me, I hate shopping alone."

"I'll go, I'll go," I told him, smiling and pulling my hand out of his grasp. "Let me fix my hair."

He groaned. "You're such a girl."

"Which is a good thing, considering you're straight. And guys can be just as high maintenance as girls sometimes, too."

"Well, I'm not," he said stubbornly, putting his hands on his hips. "I can wake up, roll out of bed, and be ready to go."

I raised an eyebrow. "Really? Do that then, instead of taking half an hour in the shower and then another fifteen minutes dressing yourself."

"I said I can, not that I will."

Ignoring his remark, I brushed past him, heading into the bathroom. A quick check of my phone told me it was almost dinnertime. I'd been in my bedroom trying to make that stupid pillow for way too long. And had nothing but a bunch of wounds to show for it. Speaking of which, I needed to hide those from Paul so he wouldn't figure anything out. Fortunately, I was wearing a long sleeve shirt. After brushing my hair and brushing my teeth, I met Paul by the front doorway.

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