Okay, so I sort of made this a tiny bit of a continuation of the last scene in the finale. It isn't too in depth since the circumstances are obviously a bit different, but it wraps up one of the points in that scene that really nagged at me when the episode ended. I know I saw a comment about a continuation so I was kind of excited that I am on the same track as at least one of my readers as far as good plots. I know this chapter is short. I tried to make it longer but it kind of ruined the flow of the story. Luckily, I already have a nice idea for the next couple of chapters so they should be of decent length. Thank you guys for reading. Please please please continue to comment!
Chapter 17
Breathless and slick with sweat, I lie next to him with my eyes closed, gathering myself. I'm having a hard time thinking about anything other than what happened, but luckily right now that is all that warrants my attention anyway. I open my eyes and turn to look at him. His eyes are already fixed on me. A smile graces his features and as if it is contagious, I smile as well.
"That was nice," I say. I don't think I've ever seen him look more gorgeous than he does right now as he lays next to me, shirtless and sweaty, his hair even messier than usual.
"Ouch," he replies, provoking an inquisitive look from me. Seeing that I am clueless as to what he is talking about, he chuckles a little bit.
"What?"
"I was expecting a little more than 'nice' after that."
I gently swat at his muscular arm, "Well I wouldn't want to inflate your ego anymore." With a smirk, he turns his gaze back up to the ceiling. I love that for once I actually know what is going through his mind; for two people with differing opinions and thoughts on most things, it is comforting to see that we are on the same page right now. It sparks a bit of bravery inside of me. I prop myself up onto my elbows. "Patrick, can I ask you a favor?"
He rolls onto his side and nods, encouraging me to continue, "Yeah."
"Don't break my heart, okay?"
He nods and the look in his eyes tells me that he genuinely wants to do that favor for me. "Okay."
His eyes avert toward my hand and he reaches for it, smoothly gathers it in his hand and holds it. "Can I ask you a favor?"
Surprised, I smile, "What is it?"
He pauses, his gaze avoiding my face. When we regain eye contact the vulnerability in his stare is unfamiliar and odd, "Return the favor."
I nod, and with our hearts in each others hands and trust radiating, we fall into a deep, content sleep next to each other.
When I awake in the morning, Patrick isn't next to me. For a split second I wonder if it was all a dream, but then I see him walking toward me, looking rather tired. I probably look just as exhausted.
"Morning," he greets me, handing me a granola bar. Cookies n' Cream, my favorite.
"Thanks," I say. I start unwrapping it but stop when my phone buzzes. I look to the nightstand where I left it the previous night. It isn't there, but when it buzzes again I look down to find it on the floor. It must have buzzed off.
"It's been doing that for while. It woke me up," he informs me as I reach down and snatch it up. 44 new texts. 18 missed calls. All from my dad.
"It's sweet that my dad is more certain that big foot exists than that my boyfriend won't kill me and dump my body in a remote area."
"It's good to know that he thinks so highly of me," Patrick says sarcastically as he unwraps his own granola bar.
"Maybe one day he'll warm up to you," I say hopefully as I set my phone down on my pillow. Patrick scoffs. Apparently the statement is just as unbelievable as I thought.
"Maybe, if I was nowhere in the vicinity of his daughter."
"Probably not even then," I laugh as I grab my robe of the floor and put it on. I unfold myself from the bed and stretch, a yawn pushing at the back of my throat. Patrick is already showered and dressed, which makes me feel lazy. It's nine o'clock already. I sit back down on the bed, waiting for the energy that should have been gained from those four hours of sleep to kick in. I feel the bed move as Patrick crosses it and sits beside me.
"So, last night was fun," he says. I can't disagree with the statement, so I feel my cheeks turn the slightest bit pink. I turn to look at him and shrug nonchalantly, but just by the look on his face I can tell he knows my exact feelings about last night.
"Eh."
"You're right," he says in agreement with his own made-up statement, "It would have been much more fun on a beach."
We pull into my driveway and I glance up at the window overlooking the driveway. Sure enough, I can see my dad peaking through the blinds, thinking nobody can see his eye through the two separated slats. I put the car in park and look at Patrick.
"I know I've said it already, but-"
"You're welcome," he says, paired with an exasperated sigh and a smile.
I glance up at the window where my dad still remains, watching to see if Patrick gives him a reason to buy a sniper.
"I'm glad I decided to go."
"I think it was good for you," he says, following my gaze up to my dad. He leans forward and waves half heartedly at the window. The slats immediately fall shut.
