Bad Intentions

Thirty

Leah

"So, I'm assuming we're sharing a bed." Jace said with a mischievous smile on his lips.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Think again, bad boy." I tossed him a pillow.

We were currently standing in my bedroom. I tried to keep Jace downstairs on the couch, but he very much insisted on coming to my room.

We argued.

And argued again.

And again.

To the point that I just caved in.

Now we were standing in the middle of my room trying to figure out the sleeping situation.

"You know." He started. "When you slept over at my place, I gave you the bed."

"And thank you for being such a gentleman. You have proven chivalry is not dead." I handed him a blanket. "But you're still on the floor."

"Leah." He whined. "The last time I slept on the floor I had a cramp in my back for weeks."

"Listen, I'm not one to be mean." I said and he perked up like a puppy waiting for a treat. "I'll even spread a comforter on the floor so you'll have a cushion."

Jace's happiness deflated just like a helium balloon.

"You're mean." He muttered but still took his place on the floor. A part of me felt bad, but I did offer the couch downstairs just saying.

I grabbed a sweatshirt and shorts and went to change in the bathroom connected to my room. Once changed, I enter my room to see Jace standing next to my desk with a picture frame in his hand.

"You look just like your mom." He said placing the frame back in its original position.

"I guess you can say so." I told him looking over his shoulder to see the picture. It was one where mom and I went to the lake to hang out for day. We were seated in front of the water, her arms around my shoulders and wide smiles on our faces. I was about six in the picture, my dark hair and brown eyes match that of my mom. I did have her nose and eyebrows.

"I see you have a lot of photos of you and your mom." He said looking around my desk and bookcase where I have different sized pictures of my mom and I from different ages and locations. "I don't see any of your dad."

I felt a sharp pang in my chest at the mention of my dad.

Jace locked eyes with me.

" I do have pictures of my dad, but he was usually the one taking the photos." I said with a sad smile. "He always found a picture perfect moment in the worst times." I let out a chuckle.

I flashed back to a memory of my dad when I was six and decided to share the memory with Jace. "We were on a walk in the park with my mom. It was warm spring day and the sky was clear of clouds. My dad insisted on going for a walk. He wanted to see the bright vibrant colors of spring." I paused thinking about how spring and fall was my dad's favorite seasons.

"He made sure to always take his vintage camera with him. It was a gift from my mom when they were in college and he never let it go since. While walking in the park, dark clouds came out of nowhere and started to rain. My dad stood there as it rained and took pictures as my mom try to grab and protect me from the rain. The pictures were candid and looked like they could be a part of magazine. It was his passion." I finished.