The Song, The Sign, The Player

Chapter 6: The Lion King

Q/N:

I got over 20 reads on the last chapter

So here's an update. 2 in 1 day, I'm AWESOME!!

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Chapter 6: The Lion King

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

"Where were you?" Blake asks interrupting my 'shit' trauma, with his arms folded over his chest as he glares at me.

Think Allison.

"Uh, I lost my way to the kitchen," I say nervously running a hand through my hair. I mentally slap my forehead knowing the lie I came up with is just plain stupid.

"Do you really think I believe that," He narrows is eyes at me, "Try again."

I rub my forehead "Uh.." I draw out, "I went for a walk." So this lie isn't good still but it's an improvement.

Blake takes steps towards me and I back up until my back hits the wall, he doesn't stop until his body impressed against mine. I can feel his minty breath fanning my face and I almost faint.

Oh no, I'm not suppose to be affected by him sill, I'm suppose to be cured. Shit.

Blake grabs a piece of my black hair twirling it around his tan index finger, "Now," he says looking down at me gently pulling my hair, "Are you going to tell me the truth, or are you going to lie all night." He tilts his head to the side slightly as he studies me.

"I may have went out," I admit finally telling some of the truth.

"Mmm hmm," he continues to twirl my hair looking at me expectantly, waiting for the rest of my story, "Where did you go out to?" He asks.

The last time I checked he was mad at me, now he's playing with my hair and asking where I've been.

Again he has me thinking he's bipolar.

"A friend's house," I say being as unclear as possible.

"What friend?" He narrows his eyes at me once again, going back to being a meanie.

"Tyler," I say so low it's almost a whisper.

He stops twirling my hair, "Who?" He asks in a hard tone.

"Tyler," I say a little louder.

He studies me for a second takin n my whole body making me feel nervous again. His eyes trail up and they sop on my neck. If even possible his eyes harden even more. He lets go of my hair brushing his finger over the side of my neck.

Shit.

"And I'm guessing he gave you this right?" He pokes my neck and I know exactly what he's talking about.

It's not none of his business so I have no idea why he cares.

"Maybe he did," I say standing up taller looking at him, trying to stand my ground, "Why does it matter to you anyway?" I ask.

His eyes soften and his body relaxes a bit but its obvious that he's tense, "It doesn't." He says backing away from me but his eyes are still locked with mine, "I was just wondering where you were, I mean wouldn't it make me a bad babysitter if I didn't." He tries to lessen the tension and it works.

I break eye contact as I scowl at him, "You are not my babysitter."

He chuckles as he lays back on my bed with his hands behind his head. "You missed a opulent of good fight on the Bad Girls Club." He informs me.