My Dirty Little Secret

Chapter Twenty Six

Chelsea's POV

The greatest decision I faced on Saturday was what to wear for Brooke's impromptu visit. I wanted to look hot, but I didn't want to look like I was trying to look hot - after all, the pretense for her showing up was me being slightly immobile. And the slightly immobile don't just throw on their sexiest outfits for a Saturday afternoon of icing their injuries.

So I decided on short shorts and a tank top, even though it was early October and the temperature was pretty much freezing. I figured I looked casual, and alluring at the same time.

She knocked on the door at about one, and I called for her to come in, but didn't get up. Admittedly, I probably could have, but part of me wanted Brooke to care if I couldn't. And anyway, I somehow knew that if I got up, she'd force me back down and tell me to rest, so I cut out the middle man.

I was sitting on the couch when she came in. She was just wearing jeans and a black top, and it honestly made me wonder how she could look so incredibly sexy in even such simple attire. Unfortunately, she beat me to the compliment punch.

"How do you look so hot, even just like that?" she asked.

"What about you?" I challenged. "You're beautiful."

She smiled, sitting down next to me. "Thank you," she said. "How does your ankle feel?"

"It's alright," I said. "It feels better when I'm rubbing it," I explained. "But I can't be doing that all the time, obviously."

Though I hadn't been hinting at anything, she took my ankle in her hands and began to massage it, and the pain subsided again. "How's that?"

I closed my eyes in pleasure. "Great," I said.

With my eyes shut, I didn't expect it when I felt her lips on mine. 

"How's that?"  She asked, now with her head by mine.

I opened my eyes to see her. "Even better," I said.

 She gave a small laugh, still one of the sexiest sounds I'd ever heard. "Good," she said before kissing me again.

"So what else is up?" she asked, settling down beside me.

"Exams," I said flatly. "I have like, three of them on Monday."

"What subjects?" she asked, knowing full well that one of them was her own.

"History and Physics," I said. "And some other one, I don't really remember," I added sarcastically.

"Hm, I hope it's not an English test on Romanticism," she said. "That would be really hard."

"Now that you mention it," I said, "That sounds kind of familiar. Even though I just had an English quiz last week," I complained facetiously.

She laughed. "That teacher sounds like a real bitch."

"Yeah, she's pretty hot though," I said.

"Hm," she giggled. "Maybe she'll reward you if you pass her test."

I laughed. "Tell her not to get her hopes up," I said.

"Come on, you're doing well enough. I haven't given you less than a B all year."

I rolled my eyes. "I so don't get poetry."

"Romanticism should come easy to you," she argued. "You're romantic enough."

"As if!"

"Oh please," she continued. "Brooke, you're beautiful! Why don't you know how beautiful you are?" she imitated.

"That wasn't romanticism, that was the truth! And you needed to learn it," I said.

"Well these poets weren't lying either," she said. "They were saying what they felt in a prettier way. Like you."

I crossed my arms and pouted, though I couldn't even try to be mad at her. "See if I ever compliment you again," I said.

She smiled and poked her index finger against my collar bone. "You try to be so tough, you know that?"

"No I don't," I protested.

"Oh yes you do," she said. "You never let me do anything for you without a fight."

I knew, looking back on all the evidence, that she was right, but I didn't relent in situations like these. "Maybe I'm just independent," I said.

 "I know you are," she said, letting me have this one. "I guess I'm just a nurturer, I can't help it."

I melted into a smile. "You're really cute," I said. "And secretly, I don't mind being nurtured once in a while."

"Really?" she asked.

I nodded. "And if you really want to do something for me," I began, putting on my cutest face as persuasion, "you can help me study Physics."

"Physics?" she asked, as if it were a deadly germ.

I nodded.

"You're lucky you're pretty," she said, picking up my text book. "What chapter?"