Addicted

Chapter 52.

After changing into some comfortable clothes, I noted that Zac wasn't in my room and exited to the living room with Emmett. We watched the movie Step Brothers in the living room, eating popcorn and laughing as we recited every line. The movie always made Emmett feel better.

Once the movie was nearly over, he told me how tired he was and retired to his room, leaving me on the couch finishing the last couple minutes of the movie. Once the movie had ended, I switch the TV off, holdings small throw rug over my shoulders. I walk to Zac's room. I knock on his door, opening it up and letting myself in.

Zac lay on his bed. He was shirtless and wore only his grey sweatpants that I have become so completely obsessed with; especially when he wore them without my underwear underneath, which I knew he wasn't now. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing steadily, both of his hands were behind his head and his black earphones played a steady beat even against his head. It was so loud that I knew what he was listening to.

Note to self: remind Zac to turn his music down when he has earphones on.

I walked into his room, placing my knee on his bed.

"Argh!" His whole body jumped when his eyes opened and he saw me, and I jumped too getting scared when he jumped.

"Stop doing that!" I almost shout at him and I swot him.

"Sorry," he chuckles, and he sits up, taking off his headphones and putting them on his bedside table.

"That was a nice song," I tell him. "I could hear it from down the hallway."

He laughs. "Was it that loud?"

"It is always so loud," I tell him, while I remember.

"Oh well." He shrugs.

"Oh yeah, 'Oh well'! It's so fine if you lose your hearing," I say getting on his bead completely.

"What was that? I can't hear you," he jokes, and we make a face at each other. I push him playfully with each of my hands at his shoulders, but he seemed to anticipate this move and grabs me by my forearms, pushing me down onto the bed. I giggle as he gets on top of me, sitting on my thighs and he grabs each of my wrists in his hands and began forcing me to smack myself lightly in the face. It didn't hurt me, but I wasn't about to roll over and let him continue. I buck my hips, trying to push him off of me, but this just made him laugh harder. He pins my arms above my head and with one hand he holds them in place while the other begins to tickle me.

"No! Stop!" I squealed, laughing. He continues to assault, and I squirm and try and get away from him.

His face bends down and his head is in my neck and he's blowing raspberries against my skin while he is tickling me. I squeal more, my hands trying to push him away as he continues to tickle me.

Now, I'm going to fight fire with fire.

My hands reach up and I try and tickle him, but they rest at his biceps as his face rises from my neck and hovers over my face. He's looking from my lips to my eyes and back down again and we stop our laughing, the sound of our harsh breathing as we try and catch our breath.

Then ever so slowly, he leans down and kisses me. It was a slow and steady kiss, full of so much love and appreciation. The flame ignited inside of me and it was a slow growing flame, so much more different than the one that was full of desperation and need. I don't know if I liked these kisses more, or those types of kisses, but this type of kiss made me feel like my heart was going to explode with how much love we poured into this connection.

When he parted, he remained close and caressed my cheek with his hand. He lays down next to me, his head resting in the crook of my neck. His arm wraps around me and he holds me tight and he sighs in my neck.

"How was Emmett?" he asks. His nose was pressed to my neck.

"Traumatised," I say and feel his body shake with laughter.

"What were you talking about for so long/"

"Just you."

"Oh, only me?"

"Yep, we were bitching about you," I say smiling and I feel him smile against my neck.

"Anything important I should hear?"

"No, not really." My smile grows.

"That's good, thanks," he jokes, and I chuckle. I turn my head to his and kiss him on his forehead.

"He's worried about me," I tell him honestly.

"I would be too," he says.

"Why?"

"Well, if I was him and my best friend started dating a new guy, I think I would be a little worried."

"Hmm," I hum, and I kiss his forehead again. "Do I have anything to be worried about?"

"I don't think so," he says. "Or at least, I hope not."

"Your words are very reassuring," I joke, and he laughs.

I could feel his body relax against me and concluded that anything sexual tonight would be off the table; including no longer being a virgin.

"Did I wake you up before?"

"Yeah," he murmurs.

"Sorry."

"It's okay, I'm glad you're here," He says and kisses my neck quickly again. "I'd rather you wake me and be with me."

My chest warms with his confession. I rested my cheek against his hair, and at the same time, we both take a deep breath, sighing loudly. I relaxed against him, focusing on his intoxicating smell and the slow and steady breath.

I don't remember anything after that, until my eyes blinked open. His arm still rested protectively over me, his hand laying at my chest. I didn't know what time it was, but what felt like minutes past of me trying to get back to sleep, I slowly tried to get out of his bed, lifting his arm gently sure to not wake him. I got out of his comfortable warm bed and went to the kitchen, pouring myself a glass of water, downing the whole glass and pouring myself another glass. I didn't realise how thirsty I was. I think it was how much alcohol I had tonight that made it so. I pour an extra glass of water and take it with me back to Zac's room, tip toeing inside and placing my glass on the bedside table, on my side. I didn't feel that tired. I checked my phone that I left in my pocket and noticed it was a little passed three in the morning, no wonder why. I would be finishing work by this time and I my body would usually be awake at this time.

I wander around his room aimlessly. While my room was light and bright, his room in comparison was dark. His furniture was dark brown, almost black including his bed. It was a very manly room and I smile as I look over him resting peacefully. I sit on his chair at the front of his desk. His laptop sat closed and I opened it, the screen opened straight away without a password. I hit Safari and then hit Netflix, starting an episode of 'Please Like Me'. I grab the blanket off the bed that I brought in from the living room and wrap it around my body. I turned the volume to low and watched it with the subtitles on. Halfway through an episode I got a little curious at Zac's desk. It was very clean; everything had a place and was spread out on his desk evenly. There was a book on his desk, a title I didn't recognise. I picked it up, ready to read the back of the book to see what it was about when two folded pages fall out and lands at my feet. I pick the pieces of paper up, both pages were double sided, written in legible handwriting, noticing that it was crumpled and used a lot. I tried putting it back into the book without looking at it, but when I did it opened slightly and only a single word popped out: 'Alison'.

I take a quick peak at Zac, who was still snoring peacefully, and I weigh my options. To read or not to read. A little pang inside of me already was feeling guilty with the thought, but it had my name in it and I was curious enough to open the pieces of paper and begin to read.

'Dear Sara,' I read and feel a pang of jealousy in my chest, I look over the letter and see another word pop out 'I love you', and I feel sick in my stomach, knowing now that I had to read.