Chapter 11

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Hi:) So I have a new editor :D therefore you can hope to see FAR less spelling mistakes.

This chapter's song is Hey Now by Dave Barnes. It's one of those mood picking up songs.

Comment! Vote! ENJOY!!!

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Wes was a sniper at heart.

"How the heck did you learn to shoot like that?" I asked him, slack jawed as we exited the range and headed towards my parked car.

He shrugged. "A hell lot of practice."

"It's insane! You shot a smiley face from what? A 100 yards away?" I punched him in the shoulder. "You've been holding out on me a lot."

"Yeah, well..." He ran a hand through his tousled hair and I bit my lip at how such a simple action could make my stomach jump. "I didn't want to scare you away from me."

I laughed. "It's going to take a lot more than that to scare me away from you."

"I can see that." We reached the car and he asked, "Can I drive?"

"Nope." I said cheerily, jangling the keys in my hand. "I'm driving."

"Come on." he whined. "I've been letting you drive the whole week."

"It's my car." I shot back.

"I could shoot you right where you stand." he grinned evilly.

I pouted. "But you wouldn't shoot a GIRL would you?"

He scowled. "No." But then his eyes lit up and he started walking around the car to get to the driver's side. In response, I started moving in the opposite direction.

He wasn't going to get me this time.

Wes narrowed his eyes and I levelled the same look back at him. He stopped moving. So did I. He lunged to the left, I moved too. Slowly, he started walking to the right and I mimicked his movements. We stopped when I was at the driver's door.

"Are we really going to do this?"

I smiled innocently. "Of course not. Not if you let me drive MY car."

"I'll buy dinner." he immediately offered.

"Why do you always bribe me with food? Are you insinuating that I'm fat?" I mock glared at him.

He held up his hands. "Hey, I happen to love food as much as you do."

'Well, too bad. I like The Beatles more."

"What is it going to take for you to let me drive?" he sighed.

"Beg."

His eyebrows shot up and I smirked at him. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, but I am."

He shook his head. "Nope. Not doing that."

"Fine. Then I guess I'm driving." I said happily, enjoying the expression on his face.

"Please?" he said through gritted teeth right before I opened the door.

"I'm sorry? That was not very clear. Could I hear it again?" I made a show of putting a hand at my ear.

"Please can I drive?" he repeated, a little louder.

"Sorry?"

"Can. I. Drive." He emphasised on each syllable.

I decided to draw this out a little longer. This was fun. "Nope. Not good enough."

"What do I have to do?" he cried, throwing his arms up in the air. "Get on my knees and grovel?"

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