The Bad Boy of Mine

Chapter 34 ll Everything is just so much better because of him.

"You're cooking?"

"Who else? You? I don't want our place to burn."

I scowl playfully at him. "Wow, aren't you just the nicest person I've ever taken a liking to?"

"I am, but then again, I'm the only person you've ever taken a liking to." He smirks, but there's a bit of hesitance in his voice.

Oh my gosh, how does he know? Did I mention this to him before? When?

"What?" I try to hide my blush.

"Isn't that the case?"

So he doesn't know.

"No. . . Yes. . . Yes."

"That's what I thought."

-

I swear to god, my boyfriend, is the most unbelievable person on the planet.

Please name one person that thinks that sweeping the sidewalk in the middle of the night is a good idea.

If you can't, I think I can help you with that.

Chris Martinez is one great example.

"It's almost 10 o'clock, Chris."

"And your point being?"

"My point being we shouldn't be doing this. We should be at home, eating our egg benedicts."

"We'll do that later." He grabs the rake and begin sweeping the sidewalk, making a rustling sound as he sweeps.

"Chris."

"Martinez."

I roll my eyes. "Seriously?"

"Yes."

"Can we do this in the morning instead?"

"Nah."

I huff petulantly. Resigning to my fate, I grab another rake that is just conveniently placed beside us, and begin to sweep.

At first, it started out really boring, we weren't talking, there was just the sound of the rake scraping against the ground. But everytime I glance up, I would see him looking at me, smiling. And, as usual, him smiling, results in me grinning back at him.

We talked and laughed. It took quite a while before we managed to finish sweeping.

I throw the rake to Chris. "Can we eat now?"

"Of course." He puts the rakes to the side. Grabbing my hand, he pulls me to his side and drapes his other hand onto my shoulders. We walk into the house, straight to the kitchen.

I take a seat at the counter while Chris opens the fridge to retrieve the ingredients we just bought. I take the time to admire his very attractive back even though it's clad in his black shirt and black jeans.

"When are you going to see your father?"

The question caught me off guard. I take a moment to process the words and then surprise takes over me.

"Huh?"

"When are you going to see your father?"

"Oh, um. Tomorrow. 10 in the morning."

"Can I come with you?"

"What?"

"Can I come with you, to see your father?"

"I don't think that's a good idea."

He frowns, "Why?"

"My mom is tagging along."

"What? Why would she want to do that? I thought she was against this?"

"Yes, she was, and she still is. But she wants to make sure that he doesn't do anything to me."

"The hell?"

"If you tag along, it'll just be weird and I don't think you'll want to be there if they start fighting, whatsoever."

"As much as I support your decision, I don't think it's safe for you to go alone with your mom. I want to be there, if something happens, I can protect you."

"Nothing will happen."

"Zoey, you haven't seen your dad in a long time, he might have changed. You don't know his motives to seeing you."

I don't know what to say to that, so I remain silent. It's true, I'm legitimately clueless about his motives.

He sighs, his voice soft. "Zoey, if you don't want me to come with you, will you at least text me to keep me updated?"

"Of course, I intend to do that anyway."

He smiles and moves in front of me. He grabs the back of my head, leans in, and kisses my forehead.

"That's my girl."