The Bad Boy of Mine

Chapter 44 ll You are a girl, Zoey! You can't help a boy do bad things!

Zoey's POV

"Baby, it's going to hurt a little."

"I know."

"Grab my arm."

"Okay."

"Are you ready?"

"Oh my god, just do it!" I groan at the impending pain and how Chris is just making it so much more difficult for me.

I squeeze onto Chris' arm like my life depended on it as I hiss in pain. He stares up at me with his wide eyes, cringing a little at how he can probably feel my pain.

Slowly, he dabs the antibiotic onto the long gash on my shin.

"Ow- ow. . . ow- ow!"

"Okay. Done."

I sigh in relief while Chris continues to apply ointments and covering the area with a bandage.

"There you go."

"Thank you!" I lean over and kiss him cheek loudly.

"Stop being so careless."

"Uh- for the record, I was only trying to feed my empty stomach because someone didn't want to leave the house to get some food for me when he promised me to, but some asshole knock into me and I fell onto something sharp. It's not my fault."

"Still, you should be more careful."

"Don't ignore the part about you not getting any food for me because you're a lazy ass!"

"I'm sorry what?" Chris glances at the clock on the wall. He gasps, putting a hand over his mouth. "Oh good gracious, look at the time, I better start working on that history assignment that I have." And he backs away from me slowly with a coy look. I scowl at him and once he's completely out of sight, I begin to panic.

It's legit, I have only less than 72 hours to plan something for Chris' birthday.

I don't intend to rely on Seth or anybody in fact, I really want it to be something personal.

The sense of deja vu is overwhelming, it's like I'm planning for our date all over again.

I really hope Chris doesn't have a high expectation for his birthday because, seriously, I suck.

I sigh despondently at my failure in life and proceed to the kitchen to make a sandwich to make myself feel better.

You know there's this theory that when you walk through a doorway, you might forget stuff?

Well, I think it apparently it works the other way round too, because an idea hits me as soon as I step foot into the kitchen. I almost wanted to kick myself for not remembering this earlier.

Well that was easy.

-

I enter the room with a sandwich in my hand. Yes, this is great, I love meatballs. Chris is furiously typing on his phone, his absurdly bright pink nails distracting me way more than it should be. It's fun to see a beautiful male sitting there, typing away with his even more beautiful pink nails. I curse mentally at myself, I should have taken the advantage and maybe . . .

Imagine how incredibly comical he would look with red and white polka dot nails on his feet.

Yeah, I like that. Not in a fetish way though, just to clarify.

"Chris," I gulp down the last bite of the sandwich as I move towards him.

"Hmm."

"Whatcha doing?"