Living With Boys

Chapter Sixty: I Guess It Really Is A Small World

Chapter Sixty: "I Guess It Really Is A Small World."

"BROOKLYN, HURRY the hell up!" Taylor yells from downstairs.

"Shut up! Don't rush me!" I yell back, struggling to zip up my dress. "Damn it."

"We were supposed to leave five minutes ago." He adds.

"I'm trying to do my zipper up, have patience." I shout. "Stupid thing, why aren't you working?" I cuss some more in Spanish, until something happens.

The zipper pops off.

I scream in frustration. "TAYLOR! Get the hell up here now and help me!"

"What?" He yells.

Right, he only speaks English. "Come here!"

Landon would've understood that. . .

He's opening my door in seconds. He whistles. "Damn."

"Yeah, gawk later. Since you were rushing me, I couldn't get my dress zipper up and now it's fallen off! So guess what? You're gonna put it back on." I scold him.

He rolls his eyes and swirls his finger, signalling me to turn around. He fidgets around until about five minutes after him cussing and grunting, the dress starts to tighten around my torso, telling me that he got the zipper fixed. "Shit, that was hard."

"This is only a casual dress too! You'd think they'd be more finger-friendly." I grumble. He chuckles, and then his eyebrows furrow once I put my shoes on. "What?" I press.

"Your shoes." He says, tilting his head.

I look down, and shrug. "Needed a new wardrobe for when I returned. I knew the dress would look good with these and they need to be broken in anyway, so why not tonight?!"

"They look hot." He tells me, looking me over.

I blush deeply, my eyes glued to my cowboy boots. "Let's go. We're already late." I say, linking my arm with his and walking outside my house, locking it up and walking down the road to Justin's.

"So what exactly are we doing?" He asks once we get a few houses down.

I shrug. "He's taking her to some escape room, so I'm taking that it's what we're doing."

"Hmm." He hums. "Never been."

"Same." I chuckle.

"Don't ruin it," he scolds me, and I gasp dramatically.

"I would never!"

"You have a genius IQ." He deadpans. "You'll probably figure it out in minutes."

I roll my eyes. "Whatever. If that's the case, then they'll have to put us in the hardest level."

"Then that'll be impossible for the rest of us," he teases.

"Well, then it'll have to be the medium level!" I exclaim. "And if it's too easy for me, then I'll just play the dumb blonde and pretend that I don't know why my cowboy boots are called cowboy boots when I'm actually a girl and the boots aren't made of cow leather."

He chortles in hums, and unconsciously grabs my hand. I'm taken by surprise, but I link my fingers with his. "I never understood how I got you in the end." He says quietly, and I arch my head up to look at him.

"What do you mean?" I ask in curiosity.

"Come on, darling, don't act surprised." He says. "You had boys who would get down on their knees and polish your shoes just for a minute of your attention."