The Romantic Idiot

5. C

"Uhm, I'm pretty sure I don't have a boyfriend named Scott Eastwood. Care to explain this to me, Mr. I'm-Trending-On-Twitter?" I glared at the cause of all these gossips. I slept for several hours and this is what I see first fucking thing in the morning? What the fuck?!

"Look, I don't know how this happened, okay? Vanessa called me a while ago and told me to check Twitter. I didn't realize the paps were following us last night."

I rolled my eyes at that. Didn't I warn him about the paps? Am I right or am I fucking right?!

"I'm really sorry about this. I didn't realize how interested they are in my life."

"That's a stupid explanation and we both know it. The only thing you can do is fix this mess. I'm not interested in being a celebrity's girlfriend. In fact, I'm not interested in being anyone's girlfriend yet."

He opened his mouth to say something when Nirvana's Come As You Are filled the air. Thinking it was my phone, I grabbed the phone near me and answered it without checking the caller ID.

"Hello? Who's this?"

"Why are you answering Scott's phone?! Are you the new girlfriend?" a woman on the other line suddenly demanded.

Eh? I looked at my phone and when the screen lit up, I was surprised to see Sasha's face staring at me.

"Oh my gosh! Why is there a monster at my phone?!" I screamed and threw the phone before I get any germs from her picture. Fortunately, Scott caught the poor gadget before it became tiny little pieces.

He put the thing in his ear and walked away to talk to the bitch. I just rolled my eyes at him and looked for my phone. Poor thing is inside the refrigerator. I probably left it there when I got the milk. Well, it isn't the first time I left it there. And, certainly not the last time.

Ten minutes later and Scott still hasn't emerged from wherever he went. Curiosity got the best of me so I decided to leave the kitchen and look for him at the rest of the house. Finally, I heard him shouting upstairs. I immediately ran to his room but he's not there. Where could that idiot be? He's not in the living room, bathroom nor his room. Even the spare room is empty. That means he's in my room. Wait, MY room?!

I immediately ran towards my room. Dammit! I think I just threw my bra anywhere since I was so tired last night. And, I was pretty sure my toiletries bag was left open. Shit! The image of Scott holding my napkin made me barge into the room wothout any warning. And there he is, still talking on the phone with his back on the door. I breathed in relief.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him while getting my toiletries bag to close it. Phew! Now, I just have to look for my bra. I'm pretty sure I threw it on the right side of the bed. Where is that piece of---

"So C, huh?"

Oh. My. Gosh. Please tell me that is not my bra dangling in Scott's index finger. I think my face turned fifty shades redder at the thought of Scott looking, much more holding my used bra. It's not even clean! I grabbed it from him and put it under the blanket by the bed. Fuck! This is fucking embarassing!

Glad one of us find this amusing, judging by the amusement evident in the asshole's face. "Relax. I've seen a bra before, you know."

"Whatever. Now go so I can change. I'm going to get my things from the apartment then return the key to my landlady." I said, pushing him out of the room to maintain what little dignity I have.

He gave me a pleading face and asked, "Can I come?"

"With that stunt you pulled, no."

"I won't leave unless you say yes."

He stood up straight and won't budge even if I put all my weight in pushing him. Fuck! Why is he so heavy?!

"Fine! You're so annoying!"

"Eh. That's why you love me." he winked and, finally, left my room.

The first thing I did when he left is throw that bra at the deepest darkest part of my luggage and tried to forget his face when he was holding it. Uuuuugh!

Finally, after an hour, we're ready to go. Lemme tell you something, if someone tells you girls take too long to prepare, they clearly haven't met this guy yet. He took twice as much as I did in changing. I swear, I was about to leave him if only he's not my chauffeur today. Unfortunately, I left my car at my apartment so he's my ride today.

I was about to open the door when Scott suddenly stopped me and frowned.

"Let's take the other door."

Huh? "Why?"

He just shook his head and dragged me at the back. I was shocked to see that his truck is at the back of the house when I remembered him parking at the front. Once inside the truck, I turned to him and expressed my curiosity.

"How did this get in here? You parked at the front last night."

"I transferred Darling here this morning."

I didn't realise the weirdness of his answer because my mind was stuck in Darling. He named his truck Darling?! I laughed loudly that people from Italy can probably hear me.

"You named your truck Darling? What the actual fuck?!"

For the first time, I saw the big boy blush. Awwwwww he looks so cute and innocent.

"Phoebe named her because she said my truck is like my girlfriend. The name got stuck, I guess."

"Shit. Wait, hahahaha, I can't move on. Darling! Hahahahah oh my gosh!" I said while still laughing. Everytime I look at him, I hear the name Darling and I'm having another fit of laughter.

Even when we reached my apartment, I was still laughing at the absurdity of Darling. Oh my gosh, I'm gonna die of too much laughter.

"Stop laughing every time you look at me! Or else I'm gonna throw these books at you!" Scott threatened me after I've guffawed for the nth time while looking at him.

I swallowed the chuckles bubbling at my throat when I can see how annoyed he is already. I really do not want my face to have the title of Da Vinci Code printed on it. But the moment he turned his back at me, I laughed again after I saw the words "Hey Darling" printed at the back of his shirt.

When you think about it, it's really not that funny. It's just that his truck looks so masculine, especially when he's riding it. It's like oozing with testosterone. But to be named Darling? Damn! It's like a bukk turned into a Chihuahua!

However, my laughter died down when I saw Darling. Because there, beside her, is a welcoming party of paparazzis and reporters shouting questions. I looked at Scott for some explanation or whatever but he was trying to stop the paps from touching me. What do they want? I wanted to ask Scott but, before I can do so, I already got the answer. Because, right at that moment, a reporter just shouted at my ear,

"Scott! Is your girlfriend now moving in with you?!"