Talk About the Direct Approach...

Chapter Thirty-Two: Kicked out

*Macy's POV*

"Say it," Cayton demands.

"No," I counter.

"Say it."

"No!"

"You leave me no choice then," he says, and before I can even blink he jumps on the bed, grabs my sides and from then on out is merciless. I scream out, before the traitorous laughter sounds out.

Why is it that we laugh when we're tickled, when we do anything but enjoy it?

"Please stop!" I gasp.

"Say it!" he commands, a smile on his face.

"Never!" I shout stubbornly.

I've known eventually that my dog jokes would result in some sort of payback, but I never thought it would be this cruel. Cayton had just gotten out of the shower five minutes ago, and I made a comment about a wet-dog smell. There are few things in this world that I hate more than being tickled. If I want to stop this inhumane punishment, I have to eat my own words.

My stubborn side isn't allowing that.

He doesn't stop tickling me, and by this point I can feel tears running down my face from laughing so much, and no doubt my face is flustered unattractively. I'm squirming underneath him, pathetically begging him to stop. Which, again, I can't help but laugh, so it isn't helping my case.

"Say it." He kicks it up a notch, and I crack. This is constitutionally classified as cruel and unusual punishment.

"Ok!" I give in. He stops for a moment, allowing me to catch my breath. He smiles down at me, clearly amused with the situation. "I'm sorry, you don't smell like a wet dog," I apologize.

"And?"

"And I love you?"

"I'll take that," he chuckles, using the pad of his thumb to wipe all the water from under my eyes.

"I hope you're happy with yourself," I say, pushing him away from me in mock anger.

"I am." I roll my eyes, standing up and attempting to run my fingers through my knotty hair. I don't understand how my hair tangles so easily, but it's very annoying.

"Do you have anything to do today?" I ask, giving up on my hair.

"Meeting soon," he answers simply. "It shouldn't take too long though."

"Is about that thing that happened yesterday? You know, the thing you refuse to tell me about?"

"Yes," he answers, obviously not planning on telling me anytime soon. I don't need him to tell me though, I already know. But he doesn't know that, and I don't like that he is withholding things from me.

I jump back onto the bed, landing on my knees right next to him.

"Can I come?" I ask.

"Can't stay away from me, can you?" he teases, smirking.

No, I answer mentally, but say "I try my hardest to." His smirk fades and I laugh. "I'm kidding you dork. So, can I?"

I don't give him any time to say no as I wrap my arms around his neck and look at him with the puppy-dog face. It's hysterical how easy it is to get my way with that look.

"Fine," he sighs.

"Yay!" I cheer, kissing his cheek before releasing my hold around his neck. "Now can you tell me what the meeting is about?"

"Well I guess you'll find out soon enough." Alright, now he's just not telling me because he knows it's driving me crazy. I can't help how nosey I am. Whether or not it's any of my business, which now, technically it is, I have to know.