A/N: Sorry for the long wait. I've been trying to work on this story as much as I could, but I had some major writer's block. I was actually gonna make this chapter longer, but I didn't want you guys to have to wait any longer. So... if it's not that great, I understand.

Oh, and BTW, the title of this story comes from a Justin Moore song.

How I Got To Be That Way

Making it safely back to Kat's room, with all their discarded undergarments tucked under Patrick's arm, Patrick and Kat both breath a sigh of relief as they fall back against the door.

"Wow," Kat breathed, "That was fun."

"You can say that again," Patrick agreed, dropping the underwear to the floor.

A silence fell over the room, before Kat pushed herself away from the door to walk over to her dresser. As she began to dig through her underwear/sock drawer, she felt Patrick's hand move her wet hair from one side of her neck to the other. He then proceeded to press his lips to the spot he had just cleared, making Kat forget the task at hand.

While Patrick continued to kiss his way down her neck and over her shoulder, Kat whispered, "We're never gonna get out of this room today if we keep this up."

"No big deal. There's worse places to be stuck," Patrick told her, before moving from her neck to her lips.

Just as the kiss began to deepen, Kat's stomach rumbled.

Kat pulled away, blushing, as Patrick smirked, "Well, I guess we probably should eat something. We did burn a lot of calories."

"Ha ha. Here," Kat said, before picking up his boxers and tossing them to him.

Catching them easily, Patrick pulled them on while Kat went back to digging through her drawers. She quickly found and put on her underwear and bra, but spent a little more time looking for clothes. Though she was not a fashonista by any means, but doing much of anything quickly was difficult for her right at this moment.

Pulling his jeans on, and deciding he was 'dressed,' Patrick leaned against the door to watch her. He gazed at her as she pulled on her jeans and rock n' roll t-shirt. He marveled at her body as she bent down to pick up her boots.
"What?" she asked, finally feeling his eyes on her.

"I told you before. I just like watching you bend over," he replied, both sarcasm and seductiveness dripping from his lips.

"Haha. Come on, let's go," Kat said as she grabbed the front of Patrick's shirt and led him out of the room.


Once in the kitchen, Patrick started going through the cabinets.

"Where's your skillet?" He asked.

"It's in there," Kat told him, pointing to one of the lower cabinets, "But you don't have to make breakfast. I can do it."

"Kat, I want to. Plus, I'm not gonna lie, I'm kinda scared about what kind of veggie meal you'd hand me."

Kat acted offended. "I can make eggs. Don't worry."

"Okay. You make the eggs. I'll make the meat. You do have sausage in this house right."

"Well... I think we both know the answer to that," Kat said seductively, getting up and walking toward Patrick.

"Oh yea... I guess you're right," he whispered, kissing her lightly, "Well... let's get started on this. I know we're both gonna need some energy today."

"Yea yea," Kat conceded, before they started on their breakfast.


"So..." Kat started as they sat down to eat.

"So?" Patrick raised an eyebrow.

"So... I wanna know something."

"Don't you always?" Patrick teased.

"Haha."

"Well, what do you wanna know?"

"Anything. We've known each other how long, and have been dating for months, and I know hardly anything about you."

"I really don't wanna know what you wanna hear," Patrick said, stalling.

"Anything. Like tell me about your family."

"What family?" Patrick questioned, a hint of anger in his voice.

"You know, your mom, your dad, what was your childhood like?"

"Kat, I really don't think you wanna hear all the horrid details."

"Sure I do, just tell me. What made Patrick Verona the man he is today?"

"Puberty?" Patrick joked.

"Haha. You're such a joker."

"Well, you asked."

"Patrick seriously. Just tell me. What were you like growing up?"

"A dork." Patrick told Kat bluntly.

"What?"

"I mean I was like Spoink."

"I can't picture that."

"I kid you not. I got straight A's and I was really good in school."

"That's crazy. I never would have thought. What happened?"

"My dad died."

"Oh Patrick," Kat whispered, placing her hand on his arm.

"So... see when he was still alive, everything was good. He worked a good job, so my mom didn't have to work. Obviously you already know what I was like. We were just basically one of those stereotypical families. Then... when I was 13..."

"Patrick, you don't have to finish. I'm sorry I asked."

"No, I want you to know."

"Ok, go ahead," she told him, reaching across the table and taking his hands in hers.

"So, like I was saying, when I was 13, my dad was in a car accident... he got hit by a drunk driver. And after he died, everything just went to hell."

"Patrick..." she whispered, running her thumbs over the back of his hands.

"'I just lost it. I stopped caring about school, or my friends. And when I got a little older, I tried to fill the whole he left with girls."

Kat cringed.

"But I never really felt anything for them, so it never really went too far, and if it did, I just felt nothing," Patrick told her, before looking in her eyes and saying, "Nothing like it is with you."

"Aww," Kat said, blushing.

"But yea, so while I was going crazy, we were going broke. Originally, we had money left from my dad, but my mom blew it all. So she had to get a job. That's where the hell really starts."

"Why?" Kat asked, confused.

"Well, she ended up getting a job as a waitress, and guess who owned the restauraunt?"

"I don't know."

"Jackass. So my mom being vulnerable, gets mixed up with him. They start dating, and then when she figured out how much money he makes, they get married. Then she has the audacity to say she did it for me. I'd have much rather been broke with just my mom, then have money with the jackass."

"That sucks."

"Hell yea it does. And that's not the worst of it. He's a drunk. And not a happy drunk or a funny drunk. He's a mean drunk. A really mean drunk. A few months after they got married, he started beating my mom. So then she starts drinking. Then he starts coming after me, and since she's so intoxicated all the time, she just ignores it. I don't know if she didn't care or if she really didn't know what was going on."

"Wow, Patrick. How do you cope with all this?"

"My grandparents. Luckily, I am still in contact with my dad's parents. Anytime it gets too bad, they let me come stay with them, and they're the ones that pay for me to go to therapy."

"Well, that's good."

"Hell yea it is. The two of them, and you are the only things that keep me sane."

"Me?"

"Yea, you Kat," Patrick told her, getting up and walking over to her. He pulled her out of her chair and hugged her, before whispering into her hair, "You give my life a meaning, Kat."

"Patrick..."

"Shh," he whispered, placing a finger on her lips.

"I love you Kat," Patrick continued, before replacing his finger with his lips.

Kat was the one to deepen the kiss, as her tongue begged for entrance to Patrick's mouth. He gladly obligied, wrapping his arms around her waist and sticking his hands in her back pockets. She responded with a moan, as her hands moved to tangle in his hair.

After a few moments, Patrick finally tried to speak. "Mmm, Kat... now you're... the one trying... to... keep us... from getting... anything... done... today," he said between kisses.

"Well, do we really have to do anything today?" she asked seductively.

"As much as I'd love to stay here and do nothing with you all day long," Patrick said, pausing to kiss her, "We really should go get your car and get it clean, before all that junk screws up the paint."

"Oh yea," Kat said sadly, "I was kinda trying to block that out from my memory."

"Oh, come on. Don't worry about it. It'll all blow over. Plus you didn't like any of those assholes anyway."

"Yea. That's true."

"Okay then," Patrick said, grabbing Kat's hand. "Let's go."