Every Bad Boy Needs A Good Girl (Michael Clifford)

Chapter 3

"Michael" I whispered, walking up to him. He looked at me slowly and a big grin came across his face. "What?" I asked, chuckling.

"It's a secret" he whispered, giggling again. I laughed. Wow, why can't he be drunk all the time?

"What is that secret?" I asked. He leaned in close.

"Your pants match my hair" he whispered. I bursted out laughing as he giggled. I grabbed his hand.

"Come on. I'm not letting you drive home by yourself." He frowned slightly.

"I don't wanna go" he whined.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because I'd miss you" he cooed.

"Michael...you don't even know me and you're drunk" I said.

"But you're a pretty girl and I like pretty girls" he said, a goofy grin crossing his face. I couldn't help but to blush.

"Well I'm not even leaving because I'm driving you...." I trailed off and a look of realization came on his face as he smiled and nodded. I called Jessica and explained the situation and she was okay with it. So we went to Michael's car and I began to drive it. "Which cabin are you staying in?" I asked him.

"I don't know" he whined. "Can we go to your cabin?" He added. I sighed.

"Okay, that's fine..." I said. He gave me a big grin and I shook my head. We arrived at me and Jessica's cabin and Michael stumbled into it. I grabbed his hand to lead him through and I noticed how well our hands fit together. I set him on my bed. After a while of silence, he seemed to sober up.

"You're staring again" he said with a smirk. I rolled my eyes. Of course he has to go back to the normal Michael. He lay back on my bed. "This bed smells like you" he said, rolling over. I was taken aback by his words.

"What?" I asked. "Is that a bad thing?" He chuckled.

"You worry too much" he said. I rolled my eyes.

"Well, you're sober so you can go back to your cabin now."

"I think I'll crash here for tonight" he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Fine. But don't even think about touching me" I snapped.

"No promises" he replied, smirking.

I sighed deeply, rolling over and crawling under the covers. After what seemed like forever, I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep in these uncomfortable clothes. Michael had fallen asleep so I slid my clothes off and put on some grey sweatpants along with a loose, plain tank top. I lay back down, facing Michael. He faced me too and his eyes were closed as light snores escaped his mouth. I chuckled at him. His lips look soft. Too soft.

Then I realized, what the hell am I doing?

Michael is no good for me. Besides, my eyes are on Calum. I don't like Michael...I CAN'T like Michael. It's wrong. He'll just bang me then move on because in his eyes, I'm just another girl. I looked at him pathetically but he looked too fragile in his sleep. I replaced the look with a blank stare. I decided to just kiss the top of his nose but even doing that I felt electricity move up and down my spine. Imagine what would happen if he were to actually kiss me? How would I feel? I rolled over so I didn't face him and dreamt of nothing but Michael's lips.

-

I woke up the next morning to be greeted by a hungover Michael. He groaned as he sat up. Me being the nice person I am decided to give him 2 Advils and a glass of water. He took both without thanking me and set the glass down. I knew he probably felt like shit...well, I would...so I decided not to talk to him or anything. He seems like the type of guy who isn't afraid to tell you exactly how it is. He then stood up and stretched. I combed through my hair and he crossed his arms.

"Trying to look good for Calum?" He asked. He said Calum's name is disgust. I shot him a look.

"What do you mean?" I asked. He rolled his eyes.

"Forget it. I'm going back to my cabin." I ignored him but he just stood there. I gave him a confused look.

"You gonna go?" I asked.

"Do you want me to go?" He asked. I knit my eyebrows at his sudden change in moods. I tried to look for any trace of humor on his face but he looked dead serious.

"Well, we're probably going to see each other later today anyways..." I trailed off. Does he want to see me or was that a stupid thing to say? But all he did was shrug and leave. I sighed, putting a hand to my head. What are you doing to me, Michael?