Al(lie)son

Chapter 6 (Cody)

LOVESICK! LOVESICK ELECTRIC!

That song is SO catchy.

Just to let you know, this chapter and the next will be fully in Wes' perspective. I rather like writing  from his point of view.

I know that I keep on saying that I hate autotune etc.. But Hot Chelle Rae is one of the exceptions to that rule. (and also because Chord Overstreet's brother is the band's lead guitarist. Love ya, Nash) So naturally, this chapter's song is I Like To Dance, by Hot Chelle Rae.

And I'm going for Lawson in April! Wooo!!

 And it might be quite a while before I update again :/ Sorry!! But I'll try and get something up in two weeks??

Vote, Comment, Enjoy,and eat Nutella <3

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Wes' POV

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you." Allie repeated over and over again. "This is all your fault."

"Is it my fault that I make damn good coffee?" I smirked. "If I recall, you did mention that if not for my fabulous mocha, you would have fallen asleep less than five minutes after class started."

She scowled. "I still hate you."

It was six forty five on Monday morning. Yup, Allie lost the bet. So for this week, she'd be my jogging partner. Thank goodness I managed to evade going to class dressed in blue boots and wearing a cape. Although in her defense, it wasn't exactly under fair circumstances that she lost. I sprung it on her last Thursday morning when she was cranky and pissed. So of course, a great cup of coffee in the morning makes life just that much better.

Truth be told, I did have an ulterior motive behind asking her to be my jogging partner. Since that weird tailing thing happened, I had a feeling that slowly, the situation would escalate. Garrett Baker had more than one screw loose in his twisted mind. Thinking Allie was his daughter's one thing, but trying to take her from her family was another.

I'd let that happen over my dead body.

It was pretty crazy for me to feel worried about her sleeping alone in her room while I was jogging, but a part of me still worried endlessly. What if she got kidnapped while I was gone? What is one of Baker's guys decides to break into her room and I wasn't there to protect her? Sherlock might be a K9 police dog, but one shot, and he'd be out. At least if she was with me, it'd put my mind at ease a little to know that if anything happened, I was near her.

So now, here she was, dressed in shorts, an exercise tank and Nikes, sharing my iPod, and jogging up a sweat. Let me insert this. For someone who claims not to exercise much, her figure was excellent.

My own Nikes slapped the pavement with each step. "You're doing great." I encouraged.

"I might kill you for this." she huffed out, wiping some sweat from her forehead. "This is insane! How do you do this every morning?"

"Habit, I guess." Actually, my morning routine at the Academy was, get up at five thirty, running for an hour, followed by a martial art plus weights for another hour and a half, then a shower. So jogging? That's a walk in the park. Literally. We just came back from a five-round jog at Central Park.

"You exercise freak." She panted. Her sweat soaked tank stuck to her body, emphasizing her curves. "If I didn't know what an unhealthy eater you are, I would definitely peg you as one of those people who eat cornflakes with skim milk for breakfast and live on white meat and veggies."

"For the record, eating like that is like being a rabbit. And I hate skim milk. All fat or none, baby."

"Finally!" She threw her hands up in the air. "Someone who dares to admit it."