Bad Obsession (Guns N' Roses: Izzy Stradlin)

Chapter 13: Spilt Milk

"Can't you just go down without me? I hate going out in public." Izzy whined just as I was practically pushing him out the front door.

"Hate going out in public? Dude, you went down the street every fucking day with me to have coffee!"

"Yeah, but I actually wanted to do that." He spun around and crashing into me deliberately, while wrapping his arms around me.

He began to kiss me gently but it started to get a little more heated and he slipped one of his hands down to my butt.

"See, if we want to continue this," I said in between kisses and then he moved his mouth down to my neck, "we have to the shops to get the... essentials."

I moved my hands from his waist up to his shoulders to gently push him off me.

"Come on honeybuns." I giggled as I skipped down the steps and got out my car keys from my pocket. I was wearing my clothes that I first arrived in at Izzy's but they were now all nice and clean after I washed them with some of his clothes.

I jumped in the driver's side of my car as I watched Izzy having trouble in closing the front door because Ripley kept sticking her head out, probably wanting to come with us. Izzy walked back inside, and a few seconds came running out and slammed the front door, slipped on his sexy sunglasses, jogged to my car and walked over to my side.

"Nah, I'm driving. Move over."

"But... it's my car." I weakly protested, secretly wanting Izzy to drive. Mainly to check out how good he was at driving.

"That's a bullshit response, come on, scoot." He opened my door and I threw him the keys, and I scooted over, having a little trouble trying to get past the gear stick (by the way it's a manual) and I didn't want to put my feet all over the place.

When I plonked my self in the passenger's side, Izzy slipped in and raised his eyebrows.

"You drive a shift?"

"Yeah... why?"

"Oh, nothing, but I've never met a chick who's owned one, let alone drive one. Maybe I should let you drive just to see how well you can do it." He smirked at me.

I changed the subject. "How come you ran out the door?" I asked as he began to drive off.

He snorted. "I walked back inside to trick Ripley into thinking I was staying home and once she was in the living room, I ran for my life for the door and slammed it shut so that I wouldn't have to battle with her in closing the door." I could hear the smile in his voice.

I began chuckling, but then I felt bad for poor Ripley because he hadn't had much love from her owner ever since I turned up.

Which somehow reminded me, I still had to ask what made Izzy sick those few days ago...

*

Along the shortish drive to the main street in Izzy's suburb, at some point on the trip he kept one hand on the steering wheel and he moved the other to my thigh. I was looking out the window when I felt his hand softly make contact with bare skin (since I was wearing shorts) and I refused to turn my head to look at him. Don't ask me why, but a big grin spread across my face when he did it.

We found a space out the front of this mini store, Izzy parked perfectly and we went inside. We literally ran to the food section and just about emptied the shelves into both of our baskets grabbing tinned fruit, chocolate chip cookies (healthy right?), like 3 boxes each of cheerio's and coco-pops, two-minute noodles, sliced cheese, eggs, milk, Izzy grabbed a case of beer because he said he needs it, toilet paper, washing detergent and clothes washing detergent... and then we came to the 'personal' isle and Izzy scuttled away with his over-filled basket.