Nothing Wrong With Being a Tomboy

Chapter 16: Loss of Bravado

   He tilted his head and smirked, “Why are you so jumpy?”

   My instinct shoved my body against the wall as I covered my chest with my hands. “W-who says I’m j-jumpy?” Don’t know why and don’t dare to ask me, but I’ve felt this urge to hide myself away from Andrew’s piercing eyes since this morning—since he kissed my neck.

   He grinned mischievously and abruptly leaped closer to me, “Boo!”

   “Ah!” with a terrified flinch, my throat freed itself through a cry as I looked at him aghast. “You are a fudging awful Oreo!”

    With both hands on his knees, he bent down, laughing and enjoying with all the amusement of the world. “Oh, dear,” he straightened—after minutes of laughing—and wiped a tear away. “Relax, Butch, I only attack in the morning.”

   My eyelids became heavy but he tore my sudden exhaustion with an intent stare and eerie words. “What do you want anyways? It’s late and I’m tired.”

   “Hours ago you were crying, minutes ago you were giving me orders inside my house and now you’re nervous,” he laughed again but I decided to change the subject.

    “Hey, um, where did you take that picture?” I pointed at the one I only beheld.

     “Oh,” he chuckled, “that was last year. I went to Mexico as a volunteer and met awesome people down there. That’s Julio and Sully. They’re good people. I will never forget them.”

     “You volunteered? Why?”

     “Either I volunteered or I had to spend my holiday with my grandma up in freezing Colorado, so I chose Mexico. It was horrible, but it changed my life, ya know?”

    “Hmm,” I moaned, engrossed by thoughts.

    “Hey, jumpy,” he chirped and with a twirl, he tossed his weight on the bed. Lounging, he smirked and patted the space next to him, “Let’s talk, shall we?”

    Swallowing stiffly, my brain advised me that doing that wouldn’t be the best thing to do, but my heart drummed faster. And I was inclined by the rhythm of my heart. “Um, okay.”

   Hesitantly, I climbed on the bed and lounged beside him. We both were looking up at the ceiling and the silence was the only noise that irked me to the core. Thankfully, he cut the thick silence with a throat-clearing and begun to chat, “We talked a lot about us tonight, but we didn’t talked about what happened this morning.”

   My muscles stiffened and I barely felt my limps tightening as I clasped the navy-blue quilt underneath me, “Uh-uh.”

   With a deep and masculine chuckle he glanced at me and sighed, “I shouldn’t have done it. It wasn’t my intention to scare you or make you feel uncomfortable with me.”

   “Then why did you do it? Ayden told me it was because you missed Lora,” with an impulsive courage slipping within my bones I turned to face him, “Huh, Andrew? Do you miss her?”

    He did the same, facing me with a small gape that separated our faces, “He told you that, huh? Well, let’s say that a man doesn’t always keep his savage side inside.”

   “Do you regret doing it?” my bravery boasted as I whispered things that never even crossed my mind. What’s happening?

   With a glazed look, he glanced away and then back to lock our gazes, “Do you want to hear the truth?”

    A slow nod was my only response. But did I really want to hear that he regretted kissing me and invading my innocence? Did I want to hear him say that it was a mistake to explore my body and to make me feel new reactions arousing?