A/N: Another chapter for you guys! I finished another chapter and it's extra long, but I'm a bit stumped on where to go next. Any theories on how this evening might go? (And yes, multiple chapters just covering the 'obstacle course.') Shoot me a review or a message, and I'll give credit where credit's due. ^^
Chapter Fifteen: You Look So Fine
She looked at him warily. "You're gonna be my date?"
"For an audience of none? Sure. It's a shame no one will believe if you did tell, cause I'm pretty sure dating me would only increase your social standing." This mock civility was easy.
Casey shot him a quick glare, then her look returned to that contemplative internal-debate look she got. Lips pursed to the side, eyes narrowed. Kinda cute, in a totally neurotic keener kinda way. After a moment's pause, during which Derek rolled his eyes repeatedly, she finally acquiesced. "Fine."
"Fine," he repeated. He walked back around to the front of the counter, pulling out a stool with one foot and sliding on. "I saw you were empty handed: care for a drink?" He offered her one of the brews he'd grabbed from the fridge.
Casey raised an eyebrow in a skeptical half-smile, even as she took the offered bottle. "That the best you've got?"
Derek could work with that. He shrugged, his lips forming a straight smile. "I figure a pretty girl who's stone cold sober can't quite handle the real zingers."
"So you get them drunk?"
"I prefer to think of it as-" he gestured toward himself with his bottle-filled hand, "-liquid courage, and-" he gestured toward her, "-liquid forgiveness. If you stick around til later, you can find out what I need to be forgiven for." He shot her a wink, then leaned in, conspiratorially, "I'll give you a hint: it usually involves 80's dance moves and badly-timed puns." Ah, self-deprecating jokes. Girls dig a guy who can rag on himself.
And now she was smiling. At him. And shaking her head in amused disbelief. "I gotta say, Venturi, sometimes… you surprise me." She took a sip of her drink, looking at him in a funny way. If he didn't know better, he'd almost think she was doing her usual dude-evaluation. But that would've required her to think of him as a dateable dude. Which she would never do.
He took a long pull from his drink, but couldn't stop the words that were just begging to be said. "Well, since you hate surprises, I figure there is no real downside to that feat." His smirk surfaced soon after, but his words had at least been said with a teasing attitude. She didn't even seem to be taking it so badly. Just rolling her eyes. She even managed to smile while doing it.
There was silence for another second as Casey took several sips of her own drink, looking over the pennants that had been hung in a string.
"Now you're supposed to hit on me?" He reminded her, gesturing toward her with his bottle.
He spotted the blush just about the same time that she started choking on her mouthful of beer, eyes wide. He handed her a napkin, unfazed, and watched with patient amusement as she coughed and covered her mouth, the blush seeping all the way out to her ears.
"Wh-what?" Her voice was about two octaves too high.
"I tested your ability to engage in playful banter – not too bad, by the way – and now you need to try hitting on-" he changed tack, rolling his eyes, "-a guy." That would be easier for her to handle. She was obviously not too keen on Derek being said guy.
"Oh." She cleared her throat, then took another drink. "Ri- (cough) - Right." Her alcohol consumption seemed to be increasing exponentially. Suddenly, she seemed to realize something. "Wait, that- that counted?"
Jeez, so maybe it hadn't been over the top flirt city, but he had hoped he'd gotten the point across. "I called you pretty, didn't I?"
"You did?" She bit her lip.
Damn it, how did she make biting her lip look so appealing? That damn lipstick only made it worse. And it didn't even get on her teeth so he'd have something to laugh at her for. She just looked all coy, blushing and looking away.
"What were you expecting? Something like-" he put on an over the top cocky attitude as he slipped his arm around her, "'Hey, baby, you into hockey players? How 'bout a hockey player gettin' into you?'" He'd never used that line. Not even once. But he'd seen Getty fail with it about five times.
Casey had frozen as soon as he'd gotten within two inches of her. Well, at least that was better than her clawing his eyes out. He almost wanted to keep his arm around her, just to see what would happen, but decided that might not be the best idea.
Before dropping his arm, he pulled her a little closer to speak into her ear, "That's not my game, Princess."
He hadn't meant it to sound all growly, but hey – it worked. Like he didn't see her eyes go wide at the way his words tickled her skin...
…He should stop. This was a little too close for comfort.
Derek pulled away, back to his own stool, clearing his throat (damn tell - he'd wanted to come across as blasé, but that probably ruined it) as he straightened his jacket. "Anyway. Your turn."
She looked to him, almost pleading. "But- I don't know any-" She stopped as she saw him shaking his head, trying not to smirk.
"You may not remember Wes's girlfriend from last year, but I do. She was a whirlwind. Totally the take-charge type. And so are you basically everywhere except in this apartment." He raised an eyebrow at her and teased, "What: do I make you nervous, Spacey?" He edged his knee toward her, subtly, and hid his interest as she shifted her own knees away. She was most definitely nervous.
"No." Of course she'd say that. She was one of the most stubborn people he'd ever met.
But she'd opened herself to it. "Really?" He felt his lips curving, and turned his whole body to face her, his hands grabbing the stool and pulling it toward him as he watched her shift away, putting her hands in her lap as she looked anywhere but at him. "Are you sure about that?" Now his knees were on either side of her seat, one bumping up against hers.
The only thing he'd maybe disliked about the heels was they they'd made her just slightly taller than him. But here, on stools, he still had the height advantage. He put one arm on the counter in front of her as the other hand rested on the lip of the stool, about half a centimeter from touching her hip, and let the height difference give him the upper hand, so to speak.
She seemed to hesitate, but then glanced to the side to shoot a glare at him, resolute. "Yes."
He had a feeling if she even tried to dismount her stool, Klutzilla would be taking over. She was a horrible liar.
Derek wanted to see how far he could push this. It was like he was back in middle school, moving his hand up a girl's leg and playing 'are you nervous.' Except that this was his stepsister. A thought which, now that he remembered it, kinda made him nervous. So he didn't put his hand on her leg, or her back, or whisper in her ear, or run his hand through her hair, or press his lips to- Nope. None of it. Cause stepsister means off limits. Even if she looked absolutely...
He let out an incredulous. "Mmhmm." But even if he knew he wasn't going to push it farther, he couldn't get himself to completely pull away.
A/N: This chapter's title is probably obvious to most, as it's from a very well-known song: 'Are You Gonna Be My Girl?' by Jet. I was looking for other songs, cause I wasn't sure it totally fit, but every time I read that first line I kept coming back to that song, so I went with it.
Another reminder: looking for theories on the rest of the evening, and also the playlist is here: bit. ly/1Js2Osw (removing the space)
