The Baseball Badass

Chapter 13: Chefs and trying to get your frick on

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Oh and there is a lovely Coldplay song I put in this chapter. Listen if you like amazing. Like seriously I wanna make a beautiful cover of it with someone who shares my love. I don't think Coldplay can ever have a bad song tbh... And you know wut I'll start putting song recommendations and links right here bc how amazing would that be...ergh rambling. Anyways without further adieu.  

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Chapter 13: Chefs and trying to get your frick on

I turned over, burrowing my head further into my pillows. I wrinkled my nose. Minty and grapey. Such an odd combination, it's almost comforting though, familiar. I drifted backwards on my bed. A grip in my lower back tightened bringing me back into warm pillows. I shifted again so my head rested in the crook of two pillows, and drifted back to sleep. 

I stifled a yawn, gripping the blanket affront me, with tightly wound fingers. Tangling my legs further into my sheets. They seemed stiffer than usually. I rolled my shoulders sinking deeper into my comforters. 

Something moved pushing me backwards. A yawn followed. And I was pulled forward again towards something harder. Not my soft memory foam pillow kept on the right side of my bed.

I widened my eyes, alarmed, taking in my surroundings. The black duvet swallowing me like a dark sea was not my own. And...

 I craned my head back, and realized my mistake. 

Grey eyes and dark morning hair. 

Bloody hell, the devil.  

I blinked.   

This has to be a dream.

I layed there slightly craned back, surprisingly not freaking out, my hands wound in a ashen t-shirt, his hands still clasped behind my lower back.   

Whuh this is wierd.

He blinked, his eyes seeming to change from grey to blue as a small stream of light flowed in through a slightly opened window curtain.  

Silence.   

Silence. 

Chance tilted his head towards the side, as if also dazed.  

He started into a small grin finishing with a full blown wicked smirk. "Squatch, stop looking at me like you wish my shirt was off. "  

I jumped back. Pushing his chest from myself, and kicking his legs in the process.  I spazzed in the blankets like I was swimming backwards about to drown.  

I didn't drown by the way. I stumbled off the bed. Holding a blanket protectively to my chest.

His voice was worn and rusty sounding. Is that what girls find attractive? His voice just sounds more rumbly raspy and dark. It sounds like he could say anything and it would sound sexual. The kid could say, rock and any girl would finish with "hard solid." He could say cake, and you would automatically say "I'dEAtAnyThingOffYourBodyCakeCookiesCaramelRemainsOfDeadChildrenSayWut...YouNameIt"

Chance raised halfway in the bed, raising an eyebrow as he yawned into his sleeve. He cocked his head, his dark hair tumbling softly to the side as he did so. He looked at me not even with a smirk, just accessing my reaction. Like he knew he would be an utter idiot if he said one thing out of line.   

A corner of his mouth tipped upwards.

 "Squatch you have clothes on."   

I looked downwards, my fingers practically strangling the sheet I had pulled off the bed in my haste. I squeezed my fingers together so tightly I could feel my nails in my palms through the blanket. I'm wearing clothes. I'm not naked. Okay. Okay. Okay.