worst behavior

em

There was a very groggy boy waking up next to me.

"Ow," he moaned, clutching his head. "Owww." He glanced at me from under a shock of his sandy hair. "What the hell are you doing here?" He snuggled deeper under the comforter of my queen-sized bed.

I grinned a little at his sexy sleepy voice, but didn't look up from my phone. "You're in my bed, Sammy."

His eyes widened, and he looked down at his bare chest. "Oh, my God." He looked frantically around my room. "Did we...?"

"Nah," I replied, fluffing up my tangled curls with my fingers. "Almost, but no." I swung my legs out of bed and sighed. "Hungry, Sam?"

I felt his eyes follow me as I pulled an oversized white T-shirt over my black underwear. I looked back at him with a knowing smile. "I know you are. You did more than drink last night. You've got munchies, I know it."

"What happened?" Sam asked, pulling up his pants. I watched him examine the band posters that covered my walls almost entirely, squinting in pain from what I assumed was a throbbing headache.

I ignored him completely, focused on piling my hair into a bun. "You're a much better kisser when you've had a few, Sam."

"What happened?" he repeated.

"You tried to prove you could handle the dirty south, Sammybaby. And if you keep getting hammered like that, well, you'll be on your way." I tucked the long white shirt into a beat up pair of shorts.

I watched him stretch, eyeing his abs appreciatively before he slipped last night's shirt on. "So, what now? Is your grandmother home?"

"Yeah. So guess what we're gonna do?" I held up my fire escape ladder before hooking it to my windowsill and throwing the rest out. "I'll meet you down there, okay?"

I breezed through the house without drawing much attention to myself and met Sam by my car. "Breakfast?" I asked, quirking up my eyebrow.

"Hell yes," he breathed, rolling his bloodshot eyes. "Drive fast."

°°°

Sam scarfed down a whole hotcake in a minute before he finally asked me. "Is Ian your boyfriend or something?"

I smiled lightly. "Nah. He's just some fun." I sipped my milkshake and shrugged. "How about you? Got a girlfriend back home?"

"No."

I hummed under my breath. "Interesting." Plucking a strawberry off his plate and biting into it, I grinned at him. "Well, I've got a little proposition for ya, Sammybaby."

Sam looked up, pulling a face as best as one could with two cheeks full of pancake. He mumbled something that could've been "huh" or "what" around chewed up food. A few older patrons of the diner glared at him, tsking at his bad manners.

I grimaced. "Listen. When you're not chewing with your mouth open like you were raised in a freakin' barn, you're cute, Sam. Cute enough for me to keep you around all summer." I paused, gauging his reaction. "I could teach you stuff, how to have real fun while you're here. And when you get back to your city, you'll have one hell of a story to tell. Because, honestly," I said, narrowing my eyes. "I can't be the only one who sees what a sheltered little white boy you are."

Sam bristled. "I am not sheltered." He stabbed a fork into his eggs. "But what do you get out of this?"

I shrugged. "For the fun, Sammy." Really, it was because he was a fun drunk and could make a good friend with benefits, but I knew he would decline if I put it like that.

Sam regarded me like he was trying to see through me to my real intentions, but anyone could tell he was crap at reading people. After a long pause, he shrugged. "Fine. But please don't make me end up in jail at the end of the summer? Okay?"

I snorted. "No promises, Sammy."