A/N A special word to maz, a dear bud. You may find your favourite word in this chapter. I've highlighted it in bold, just for you. I own only the plot, Lizzie, and not the stuff in bold, disclaimed to Meg Cabot. High five to Inara Cabot, 1Bookwormie1, Purple Rhapsody, and all you others who contributed to my 150 reviews! Keep 'em coming!

Chapter 17

He was hot, hotter than in my vision. His sun-kissed body looked so buff in his blue shirt, it was unbelievable. Yet something in my mind said

Not as hot as Jesse.

"Brad!" called Paul, with as much forced enthusiasm as when Brad explained him to me. They did the whole "guy" handshake and then Brad joined the party. Then Paul turned to me.

"Do you need to get cleaned up?" he asked me, his eyes darting from my sick-covered chest to my embarrassed face.

"That'd be great," I gushed, and he led me inside. I gasped. Paul's house was huge! Its marble floors, leather furniture, it all took my breath away.

He led me up a staircase and into a room painted suavely in brown, with cream upholstery and duvets. It looked like a hotel room, not a bedroom. It sent a strange chill down my back, like I'd been here before.

"Here," said Paul, handing me a towel.

"Thanks," I said, taking it. He continued to hang around and watch me, so I felt I had to say something.

"You can re-join your party, if you want."

"Nah, its cool," he assured me. "So you're...Brad's new chick?"

Back home in Brooklyn, I would have kicked the guy's ass for calling me a chick. But I let this one slide, on account of him being so nice to me. Ish.

I blushed. "No, Jake's. I'm from Brooklyn."

"Brooklyn? Neat. I come from Seattle. I was pretty much top dog there too." This guy obviously had his head too far up his ass to see clearly, but seeing as he was so hot, he could hardly blame him. "You're really pretty. Suze, is it?"

"Yeah," I replied slowly.

"And you're a mediator."

I nearly fell over onto his bed. Not that I think he'd have minded that. Shut up brain!

"How-"

"I know stuff, Suze."

"I-"

Paul pressed his finger against my lip and wrapped an arm around my waist. I continued to mop Lizzie's blouse with that towel.

"Need help with that?" Paul asked.

"No, I-"

He dragged my blouse over my head and I was left standing speechless, in my bra. Then Paul leaned fowards and kissed me.

I wont lie to you. It was a good kiss. I felt it all the way down to my poor, blistered toes.

Which is not to say I kissed him back. I most definitely did not...

Well, OK. Not that much, anyway.

Now I was really in danger - not of being killed, but of completely losing my head for a guy who was bad for me in every way. Because thats exactly how Paul's Slater's kiss made me feel. Like I'd do anything -anything- to be kissed by him some more.

Wow.

WOW.

It was a really mind-blowing kiss. It was only the fact that that Brad/any one else might walk in on us and I was in my bra, that made me pull my lips from his. Because if Jake was a great kisser, Paul was amazing.

"Are you insane?" I asked him. Not that I meant it. Because if he was, I was crazy too.

"No. I know you wanted that kiss. I saw it when I first met you."

"No," I said, protesting. "I just thought I'd seen you before."

"You bet," replied Paul, wrapping his arms around me again. "In your greatest dreams."

And he kissed me. Again. And again. And this time, I was completely helpless. I threw my arms around his neck and gave in. Because there wasnt much else I was capable of.

It wasnt really a picnic, though, having a hundred and eighty pounds of guy on top of you, especially when its not even the guy you're going out with. Still, I was kinda getting used to the whole making out thing, when Paul suddenly rolled off me and got up.

"Well," he said nonchalantly. "Its been fun entertaining you, Suze, but now I have to be a host." He tossed me a grey t-shirt and left, calling "See ya around!"

See ya around? What kinda of guy makes out with a girl on his bed then just abandons her? A sick and twisted guy, thats what.

Jesse would never do that.

I was putting on my T-shirt and examining myself in the mirror, when the light caught a red patch on my wrist. I pulled my hand up to my face and looked at it in horror. It was oozing. Ew!

I tucked my hands into my jeans to hide it, and wandered downstairs.

"Hey," said brad, passing me a beer. "What took you so long?"

"Um," I replied, taking a glug of beer. "I guess... I just got distracted."