Real Connections

Chapter 3

AN: The pic is similar to how I imagine Chris. Of course, I tend to take a given image and blend it with the image I have in my mind. For example, my mind Peeta is irresistible. Although, that's probably from reading too many fan fictions where he was described with an inhuman hotness. Mind Peeta is a mix of how I felt the book described him, with a little of what I like, and of course, a dash of Josh Hutcherson. Anyways, I'm sure if you made it this far, it wasn't to hear me rant about Peeta... *ahem*  Alright, on with the story!

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Chapter 3

Things continued as usual and soon a whole month passed since karaoke night. Being busy with college, I was able to push aside what happened between Chris and I as a drunken incident; the bartender gave us some strong shots, lack of good judgement, blah blah blah. But still I dream of his gorgeous blue eyes at night. And those lips...

Anyways, Fiona and I hadn't gone out since then, so I happily agreed to go when she invited me to one of her home volleyball games. She is a good player and this game is an interesting one. During half time, I head to the concession stand in search of some Airheads or Laffy Taffy. Before I get there, I'm stopped short.

He's here.

Chris is perched against the wall across from the concession stand, looking the picture of a Calvin Klein model. Of course, he'd be here to support his sister. I just wish she would've told me. But why would she? She doesn't know what happened.

I shake myself out of my trance,  and  quickly join the line to the concession stand.  I thought I had escaped embarrassment when I heard someone clear their throat behind me. I turn around to look into those gosh darn blue eyes. Damn him.

"Hey there Callie." He flashes an alluring smile.

"Hey Chris, it's good to see you." I say carefully.

"Look, we left the bar kind of suddenly and I didn't get your number."

"Yeah." I shrug.

 "I didn't want to ask for it in front of Fiona," He continues, "and well, I was not gonna ask her for it. But I wanted to talk to you" 

He shoves his hands in his pockets and I see his adams apple bob. He looks...nervous. It's sort of enduring. I ignore the butterflies in my stomach.

 "I don't know if that's a great idea. I don't want to ruin anything with Fiona." 

"Do you think we could talk, please?" His eyes plead with me. 

Those damn butterflies in my stomach start acting up again. I let out a sigh before responding.

"Alright, but I'm getting my candy first."

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It's still half-time, so we get our hands stamped and step outside into the evening. It is beginning to get a little chilly and I wish I had brought my jacket. I follow Chris to a bench and sit, purposely placing myself so that we have a considerable gap between us. I shiver a little and he, of course, offers me his jacket. I refuse.

"Take it. You're cold." He says, clearly not budging.

I take the jacket and look up at him, trying not to look directly into his pools of blue, feeling as though I might fall in.

"I know we just met that night, but you were so much fun and you're so beautiful. And then, when you ran into me, I just... I couldn't help myself." He explains.

 I blush and hide my cheeks behind the collar of his jacket. Mmm. This smells so good. I try to breathe in some more of his scent without it being obvious.