"I turned my head," I stated.
"I'm still wounded. You should make it up to me."
"You don't look wounded," I stated dryly.
He turned the puppy dog pout on again.
"Don't do that," I said, melting a little even though I knew I didn't really wound him.
"Do what?" he asked, still looking wounded.
"Oh, my God, you with your damn puppy dog eyes," I said, leaning over to give him a peck.
But once I was over there, he grabbed me and deepened the kiss, sliding his hand right up my shirt.
"Not here," I said, chuckling against his lips, tugging my shirt back down.
"Aw, why not?" he replied, making the pout again.
I pulled back, shaking my head. "Pout all you want, that is not happening here, not right now."
He sighed. "Fine, let's get you home then."
I smiled and rolled my eyes, sitting back in my seat, but when I did, I gasped, my eyes widening, as I saw Andy standing right in front of the car, looking in at us.
Derek scowled at him, muttering, "That kid needs to get a life."
It was kind of spooky, just seeing him pop up like that. How much had he seen? Probably just seeing me in Derek's car was enough to convince him that Derek was "the other man."
I felt terrible for breaking up with Andy, but what else could I do? I couldn't keep dating him and sleeping with Derek behind his back. In the long run, that would hurt him more, not less.
But I honestly didn't think about it for very long, because I knew Derek was going to take me back to my house and make me forget all about Andy....
Chapter Seven-
Derek and I went back to my house, and I had to be honest; I was kind of looking forward to being with Derek again. I loved the way he did what he did, and I missed having my hair pulled so skillfully.
When we got to the trailer we were already making out, and he had me walking backwards into the house as he unbuttoned my shirt.
Needless to say we were both caught by complete surprise when we suddenly heard, "What the hell?"
My eyes widened and I broke away from Derek, grabbing my shirt to close it up and turning to face Alex.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, flushed.
"It's my damn house," he replied, torn between smiling and blustering. "What is he doing here?" Quickly throwing up a hand, he rethought his question. "No, I know what he's doing, but why is he doing it? No, wait," Alex said, realizing that wasn't what he meant to say either. Finally he settled with, "Shit," as he passed his hand tiredly over his face.
"I thought you were at Miranda's," I said.
"We broke up," he said, shaking his head, trying to figure out what to do in that uncomfortable situation. First he pointed at Derek, "Okay, you—leave." Then he pointed at me. "You—sit."
I shrugged apologetically at Derek and offered a little wave. He nodded at me and slipped out the door, probably glad to be avoiding the parental bluster.
Alex stood there for a moment, looking at the wall behind me as I buttoned my shirt back up. Finally, he sighed, looking down at me.
I offered a weak smile, not knowing what else to do.
"Probably a nine," he stated, breaking the ice.