A/N--So this chapter is quite the filler, but I find it cute so whatever :) The next few chapters will definitely have some looking forward to, I believe, so yeah. There's still more to come! But even though this chapter isn't all that exciting, it could still use some love so any comments and votes would be much appreciated! Hope you guys all enjoy :)
"What the hell, Ethan?" I scream as I surface the pool water, pushing my now sopping wet hair out of my what-are-sure-to-be-raccoon eyes now. We were outside having such a nice time. He'd just gotten done mowing the farther part of the land my dad owns, and me, being the wonderful girlfriend that I am, brought him out an ice-cold water to cool him down.
And he was very thankful at first; he kissed me sweetly and then asked me how my day had been. Somewhere in that conversation we started teasing each other, calling each other names-basically flirting our asses off-and I'd called him something particularly funny and he'd picked me up and slung me over his wonderfully bare shoulder.
Then the little shit threw me into the pool.
When I have shoes on and everything.
He's cracking up right now, full on belly laughing at the look of utter fury on my face, as he stands on the edge of the pool, completely and utterly dry. It's slowly starting to dawn on me how much my boyfriend loves to pick on me, how he takes so much pride in making me blush or making me mad. This new incident is a prime example.
"Sorry babe," he says in between his laughter, "I just had to do it."
"No you didn't!" I argue back loudly, knowing that no one's here to come outside and yell at me for being so loud. My mom and Darla are out shopping once again, and my dad's down in his studio. "I have shoes on, for Christ's sake!"
He laughs again and while he's busy enjoying himself so much, I reach under the water and pull off my now completely soaked black Converse. And then I chuck them over at his perfectly defined stomach reveling in absolute delight when he curses from the contact.
"Hals!" he cries after the second one hits right beneath his ribs, the thud even being able to reach my ears.
"Don't be such a tit," I say haughtily, crossing my arms over my chest and poking my tongue out him. That ridiculously hurt expression on his face fades at my insult, and he just smiles instead, probably thinking that he's crazy for dating a girl who says shit like that.
It's then I take the time to check him out, my eyes not being able to waver from his tanned, sweaty chest for too long. It's on perfect display; it really is, since he's wearing nothing but the gym shorts he always cuts the grass in. He's not disgustingly muscular what with muscles popping out of his neck and shoulders and whatnot. Instead he's got a faintly shown six-pack, not one too out on display, and that perfect V-shape in his waist that disappears deep into the depths of his red shorts.
Gorgeous.
"Done checking me out yet or what?" he asks, amusement clear as day in his voice. And when I meet eyes with him, I see a very content-with-himself Ethan.
My cheeks flare up with the realization that I've been caught, but I really can't be too bothered about him. He's my boyfriend; it's my right to shamelessly gaze at his body. It's got to be in the bible or something. So instead of lingering on that too much, I just smile up at him and then ask, "You going to get in or what?"
"I don't know..." he trails off mischievously, as if he is really going to leave me in this water by myself. But he knows better. He knows that I know he knows better.
Whipping my arm across the water to splash him, I say threateningly, "You better get your ass in this water, Ethan Crest."
"I like 'em feisty," he says chuckling before leaping into the air, his body plunking down in the water just a foot or so away from me. The water from his splash completely covers my face for a second or so, but before I can go to wipe the water off, I feel his hands grab at my waist underneath the water.
He jerks me underneath the surface with him, and I immediately retaliate, kicking at his legs with my own and pushing against his chest. He doesn't release his grip though, so instead of fighting with him I just do what I really want to do and thread my legs around his waist, pulling him against me.
And that, of course, is when he pushes off the bottom of the pool and lets us come up for air. The little booger. I can't be bothered to let go of him, not when his chest feels so good being so close to my own. I let one of my arms fall from around his neck and go to wipe the water from my face, and when I pull it back I see the black water-color on my fingers. Damn it. I do have raccoon eyes.
I try a few more times to get it completely off, and when I feel like it's pretty much gone I look back up at him, putting my arm back in its original position behind his neck. He grins at me the minute I look at him, and then brings his hand up to my face, letting his thumb gently trace underneath both of my eyes.
My eyes are pretty much locked on his face as he cleans me up, watching him bite down gently on his lip and focus on getting all of my smeared mascara off. He looks so intently at me, like he's focusing so hard on the features of my face, and while it's a bit unsettling, it's also a really big turn on for some reason.
He's so concentrated on me, so interested, and my body can't help but get a few degrees warmer because of that.
So that's why when he finally drops my hand and tightens it in my waist, I press forward and kiss him, not exactly being able to hold back after a moment like that. He wastes no time whatsoever in deepening the contact, his grip on my hips tightening as he slants his lips over mine. Our mouths open to each other's pretty much at the same time, his tongue sneaking out and meeting my own. My legs instinctively tighten around his waist, making a hot sensation shoot up my body at the unknown contact. It's unsettling to say the least, but so goddamn pleasurable that I can't find the will power to move them away.
He groans against my lips and it's then that I feel my back hit the concrete side of the pool wall, the initial hurt of the contact disappearing with just one touch of Ethan's lips against my own. I sigh heatedly against his mouth as I bring my arms up, one of them dropping along the back of the Ethan's shoulders while the other sneaks into his wet, thick hair, tugging just a bit because he always has liked it when I do that.
His lips tear away from mine the moment I do so, and at first I think it's because it's getting a bit heated and he doesn't want things to go too far too fast, but when I feel his lips meet the tender skin of my neck, I know that he's not even worrying about making me uncomfortable. He knows exactly what he's doing.
His mouth opens against my neck, his hot breath warming up my already warm skin. It's when I feel his teeth lightly scrape against me that I melt into his arms, no longer being able to think clearly. He only nips me twice there, and then starts to pepper kisses against my skin, starting at the base of my neck and then slowly trailing upwards so that he can meet me lips again.
Just moments later, though, he pulls away from me, murmuring my name. In absolute bliss, I let my head fall onto his shoulder and sigh, not really knowing how long it's going to take before I can get a hold of myself.
Apparently I need to get a hold of myself pretty quickly, because it's just as I'm feeling Ethan's fingers push back the wet fabric of my T-shirt so that he can hold onto my bare skin, that I hear the back door to the house shut with a thud.
I practically leap off of Ethan. Even though everyone now knows that Ethan and I are together, my dad's still not that okay with knowing that Ethan and I do anything together other than talk. Any form of physical contact and my dad's uncomfortable and angry and ranting about how daughters just shouldn't be able to grow up, or some nonsense like that.
And even though I know my dad doesn't have the heart to kick Ethan out of the house, I still don't want to push anything. So if I have to keep my hands off of my boyfriend while my dad's around, so be it.
"Hey dad," I call out to him as he makes his way down the walkway to the inlaid stones surrounding the pool.
"Hey daughter," he calls back, pretty much close enough to where he doesn't have to raise his voice. He then looks to Ethan who's now standing by my side, "Hey daughter's boyfriend."
"Hey sir," Ethan greets nicely, even though there's a bit of annoyance in his voice. Probably because we just got cut off in a moment like that, but who am I to guess? I know I'm a bit irritated that I couldn't just rest against him for a few more moments.
My dad says, "Well since your mom and sister are out for the day, I was just going to say we order pizza for dinner. Sound okay with you two?"
"Sounds great," I say as the same time Ethan says, "Yes sir," making me roll my eyes at him. I know he wants my dad to love him and everything, which he really already does, but he doesn't have to say "sir" after everything, I'm pretty sure.
"Oh and Ethan," my dad says, sounding like he's just remembered to tell him something. "Pete's coming in to talk to us about set design. Will probably be here in an hour or so."
"I'll be there," Ethan says confidently.
Part of me deflates when I realize that I won't have Ethan to myself tonight, something I was sincerely looking forward to seeing as how our chaperones have been cut in half with my mom being out for the day. But I know that this is the primary reason Ethan's staying with us and if not for it, I'd never have met him.
Still, though. It really sucks.
My dad shuts the door into the house just a couple of minutes later, once again leaving me and Ethan alone in the not-so-hot-anymore pool. In fact I'm starting to feel a bit chilly, even in the late afternoon Nashville sun. It's been a particularly hot day today, and if not for his base tan, Ethan probably would have gotten sun burnt. But other than the light redness cutely touching his cheeks, you never would have known he spent a good part of his day working outside.
I float back on over into Ethan's arms, which immediately twine around me once I'm close enough, pulling me in. I don't wrap my legs around his waist this time, knowing that it'll only cause me to get all worked up again. I really don't want to get carried away like that again when we're going to have to leave the pool in just a few minutes for dinner.
He presses a swift kiss against my temple and asks me, "What do we do now? I didn't think I'd have to leave."
I shrug my shoulders, not exactly sure how to answer, but I do say, "I don't know, but I am getting kind of cold..."
"Weenie," he coos teasingly, but pulls away from me nonetheless and climbs out the side of the pool, me having an amazing view of his back muscles the entire time. Once he's out and standing, he grabs me by the hand and helps pull me out. I look down at myself and cringe a bit when I see my wet shirt plastered against my not-so-perfect stomach, enhancing the fact that I don't have the flattest stomach in the world.
I immediately reach out and pinch at it, trying to pull some of the fabric away so that it's not quite so clingy. This is so humiliating.
Before I know it, though, I feel a warm towel being draped over my shoulder. "Thanks," I tell him sincerely, running the towel a few times through my hair to get rid of the excess moisture, and then wrapping it around my chilly body.
A familiar ringing noise then darts through the comfortable silence, and when I look over at the table not too far from here, I see that my phone is lit up, signaling that someone is calling. Who the hell would be calling me? All of my friends hate me right now.
I curiously walk on over to the table, and when I see the picture that Fred and I took together at the local fair not too long ago on the screen, I feel a part of my stomach hollow out in nerves. Fred's calling me? I thought he hated me. "Who is it?" Ethan asks, scaring me just a little with how close he's gotten to me unknowingly. I can feel his breath on my shoulder.
Picking the phone up in my hands but still letting it ring, I turn around to face Ethan and say a bit quietly, "It's Fred."
Ethan's face tenses just a bit, that calm and happy expression from moments ago now not even traceable, and he asks me, "Why would he be calling you?"
"I have no idea," I whisper, "But there's only one way to find out."
And with that, I slide my finger over the screen and then bring the phone up to my ear, nerves churning through my stomach. I don't know why I'm so nervous to talk to him, but I'm guessing it's mainly because it's going to be awkward and uncomfortable talking to him after last time. "Hello?" I ask, even though I already know who's on the other side of this call.
"Hallie," Fred says, his usual enthusiasm completely wiped away from his voice. He's usually such a loud and happy guy, but this doesn't sound like that guy. Not at all. "We need to talk."
"That's what we're doing," I tell him, not even caring that the remark is somewhat rude. Ethan, though, loves it seeing as how a light smile touches his lips when I say it.
Fred says, "In person. I feel bad about...about last time. Shit. I was awful to you."
"Um, yeah. You were," I say, my voice once again a bit hostile and cold.
He says, "Come on Hallie, please? You doing anything tonight? Can we meet up or something?"
Well...I think, looking over at Ethan who seems to be concentrating on watching me. Ethan and I were going to do something tonight, but then my dad came out and stole him from me, so now I'm not doing anything. But do I really want to go out and talk with Fred? After how he talked to me the other night? He was so awful to me, they all were. Can I forgive him for that?
But then it occurs to me that we all had a good deal of alcohol in our systems and that even though they were kind of terrible, there was a reason. Not a very good one, albeit, but a reason nonetheless. And, thinking back to it, they were just mad because they thought Ethan would treat me badly. Though that's the farthest thing from the truth, they did just want to look out for me.
Damn it.
Now I feel bad for considering not going.
"Yeah I guess," I say with a sigh and watch as Ethan's face tenses up once again. Does he not want me to meet up with Fred or something? He knows I don't like him like that. I've told him time and time again. Is he...is he jealous?
Aww.
"Great!" he exclaims happily, "You want to meet up at Baskin Robbins? I'm dying for some fucking ice cream."
"Yeah that sounds good," I say truthfully, thinking about how awesome some chocolate ice cream would be right about now. "Eight o'clock?"
"Fine by me," he says, and I can't help but notice that that once missing enthusiasm is now back in action. Did me agreeing to go out with him make that happen? It can't be. I can't affect him that much, right?
"Okay, well I'll see you then," I say, noticing how antsy Ethan seems to have become. He's looking all around the backyard like he really doesn't want to be here, in front of me, listening to me talk to Fred.
"Bye Hallie," he says, and then after I mumble a quick "bye" myself, I hang up the call and then place my phone on the table once again.
"Ethan?" I ask immediately, taking a step towards him and then wrapping my arms around his waist. He really does not seem to be happy about my possibly rekindling my friendship with Fred, and I don't want him to be mad at me. I really don't. I can't have him mad at me now that I've realized just how happy he makes me. "You're not...you're not mad, are you?"
It hurts when he doesn't wrap his arms around me immediately but I push it away, not wanting to seem clingy or desperate or something. He's quiet for a second or two before he answers with a sigh, "I'm not mad...I just...I mean, you're kind of going out with him. And he's got a big thing for you."
"We're not going out," I explain, "We're just going there to talk. I really just want to hear an apology about the other night and eat some ice cream. It's no big deal."
"Hals," he says, "If I was going out with a friend of mine who just so happened to be a girl, and this girl liked me, but it was only for me to hear an apology or something...you'd still be a bit unsettled by it, right?"
Immediately the thought of him with another girl makes my arm tighten around his waist instinctively. He's right...I wouldn't like it if he went out with a girl who liked him; even if I knew he didn't feel the same way about her. I'd hate it. And I'd spend the whole time they were out wondering if something had happened.
"Right," I answer truthfully, feeling bad because I really don't want him to worry about me. But I've already made the plans and it'd be rude to cancel, wouldn't it? I mean, I could just demand that we talk this all out over the phone, but I've already told him that I'd meet him for ice cream. Still, though, I don't want Ethan to have to worry about me. "Well..." I say apprehensively, "I guess I could cancel?"
It's then that he finally, finally, hugs me back, causing my head to rest against still pleasantly bare chest. Oh it's beautiful. Feeling much more comfortable now, I smile against his warm skin and wish that my dad nor Fred existed so that I didn't have to ever leave this spot.
He says tightly, "No, I want you to go. I don't want to stand between you and your friends, no matter how much I hate how he looks at you."
The smile on my face stretches even bigger. Although I hate that this situation makes him worry, I do somewhat like that he sounds a bit jealous and a bit worried that he might lose me. It makes me feel special, like I really mean a lot to him, and even though I already know he likes me a lot, it's still nice to hear. Leaning in, I press a kiss to the middle of his upper chest and when I pull back and meet eyes with him, I see that his crystal blue eyes have gone a shade or so darker.
Wonderful.
I tell him intensely, "I don't care how he looks at me, okay? The only person in the world I want to look at me differently is you. I don't like Fred. Only you."
He doesn't say anything initially in return. His answer is tightening his hold across the bottom of my back, and leaning down so that he can nestle his face in between my neck and my chin. Shivers, but much nicer ones than the one just from the cold, alight my body. After a completely blissful minute or so, he pulls back and then after pressing a hot and open-mouthed kiss to my neck, he meets eyes with me again.
He says, "God I wish your dad didn't need me tonight."
"Me too, babe," I say wistfully, thinking about how amazing it would be if we could just spend one whole day together. "Me too."