The Boyfriend Diaries

8) Pucker up-

    Melissa batted my arm away as I made a leap for her, she slipped out of my grasp and dived onto her bed, only just catching herself before she toppled off backwards. She was still laughing like a mad woman, so much so that she didn't have the energy to run away from me or even speak. I chased after her, clambering up onto the bed.

    “Shay stop it, I can't breathe. Seriously!” Melissa squealed.

    She then staggered off the bed and made a run for the door. She was too slow. I wrapped my arms around her and hugged as if she was the last person in the world. I pursed my lips together and pushed my face closer to hers as she pushed against me.

    “Don't you dare!” She warned.

    “Pucker up!”

    All her laughing had rendered her defence weak and I smothered a kiss on her cheek, wiping the lipstick everywhere. When I was satisfied that she looked should as wacky as I did, I released her and sat back down on the bed. The smile never removed itself from my face as she scowled at me, swiping a hand furiously across her cheek.

    “I can't believe you did that. That was gross.”

    “Oh, you loved it.”

    The door swung open, and Melissa moved out of the way before she was hit. A head poked around the door and instantly fought the urge to laugh at the sight of both Liss and I plastered in cosmetics like clowns. It was Liss's mother.

    “Do I even wanna ask?” Mrs M said. Melissa shook her head moodily and I just gave her mum a grin, which explained it all.

    Mrs M pushed the door opened wider and came in, revealing a lovely black cocktail dress that came just up above her knees, but showing way too much of her chest. Then again, with boobs that size there was no way you could hide those bad girls. I tried not to stare.

    “Wow, mum. You clean up nice.” Melissa complimented her, and Mrs M curtsied, flushing slightly. It was true. I had only ever seen Liss's mother in jeans and jumpers, she was a real comfort-over-style kind of mum, it was just as much as a shock for me.

    “Yeah, Mrs M. You're looking hot.” I said.

    “Why thank you, girls. Not that I can say the same for you two.” She wore a smile so wide she could light up the darkest of nights. “Anyways, Melissa, your dad and I have that dinner tonight, remember? We wont be back until late, so don't wait up. Charlie is in his cot asleep, I'm not sure how long he'll be out for but when he wakes up he'll need feeding.”

    “Okay, mum. Got it. You know I'll still wait up for you though.”

    “Yeah, I know. You're a good girl.” Mrs M leaned close to her daughter and gave her hug, kissing her lightly on her forehead. Somewhere deep inside of me there was a twang of jealousy, like the snap of an elastic band. I had always admired Melissa's relationship with her mother, even more so at the fact that she was adopted. Their relationship was something I often wished I had with my own mother.

    Mrs M then pulled me in for a hug and said, “There's twenty quid in it for you if you help Melissa babysit.”

    When she pulled back I stood straight and put my hand up to my forehead as if I was a solider being commanded. She had me at twenty quid.