Chapter Sixteen

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Hey guys. So, I know you've had problems for yeaaaaaars with reading this chapter. This is an edited version of it, which hopefully will make the Wattpad cut and will be available for everyone. Thanks for always being patient with me. :D Enjooooooooy. 

Oh, here's a fanmade trailer for I Sold.. while I'm here because I ADORE it!

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When I got into Alex's driveway, I didn't see anyone else's car which meant that I was the first one to arrive.

Good. That way I'd have time to get control on my eyes before anyone could say something.

I parked beside the huge garage so that my car wouldn't be in the way when everyone else got here and then took out all my stuff and walked towards Alex's house.

His house had this really modern vibe. It was square, with a lot of windows and balcony popping out of the structure. His parents were really into that contemporary stuff. The inside of the house held that same vibe, all the walls usually white or grey or beige, usually empty except for a abstract painting or something in that line. Everything had a set place, every vase, every table, every anything. It was a nice house, even thought I liked the more homey style of mine with its wood and warm colors and complete disorder.

I rang the front bell and then walked in without waiting for anyone to open the door. I was used to coming here.

"I'm here!" I yelled as I let my grocery bags fall in the entry, my backpack still hanging from my shoulders.

"Hello Lexi," I heard Alex's mom yell from the kitchen.

I walked over there, and found her in front of the central counter, the box of a cake mix in front of her eye, her glasses on.

"Hey! What's up?" I asked.

"I'm trying to bake that cake" she answered, frowning.

"You know you just have to add water, eggs and oil right? And then stir, and then put in a bowl and in the oven," I trailed off, already smiling.

Nathalie was always hilarious. She didn't know how to cook, like at all. It was always Anthony, Alex's dad, who cooked or a chef when they had one hired.

Nathalie was really a nice mom. The way mine used to be years ago.

"Really? That simple? Why isn't that what's written on the box then?" she asked me, teasing. "I can't understand that cooking gibberish," she added, shaking her head.

I was laughing at that when Alex's walked in the kitchen and wrapped his arm around my waist, kissing the top of my head. "Hey Kitty."

I elbowed him.

"What was that for?" he exclaimed, laughing and dropped his arms.

"I don't know, maybe because I'm still mad at you for inviting Blake. Or just because I felt like it," I answered him and turned around and then stared at his very muscular and very naked chest for longer than appropriate.

"Put a shirt on in the kitchen," Nathalie told her son, stirring the cake mix but splashing it everywhere.

Alex laughed.

"Let me help you with that mom," he simply answered and walked around the counter to stand beside her.

"No, no, no," she started to say, shielding the bowl with her body "You're not touching my cake! I told your father I could do it on my own and that's what I'll do. I'm not losing the bet this time," she groaned.

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