Chapter 18- 'We drink like immortals.'

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 A/N: sorry for the wait guys! to make up for it this is a longer chapter than usual so enjoy and please let me know your thoughts! thank you to Dead-Before-Dawn for the amazing banner!

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Drake and I immediately shot away from each other, he rested his head back onto the pool table and I sat up straight. I notice he shuts his eyes and looks annoyed.

The first person through the door was Lacey, and her eyes scanned the room, instantly freezing on me straddling Drake on the pool table. In all fairness to the girl, I could understand her shock.

Not exactly a sight you walk into every day.

I start to panic slightly as I realise the rest of the guys are about to walk through that door any second, and I already felt scrutinised as Lacey was staring at me with a smirk and her brows raised.

Judgmental bitch…

“PARTY’S HEREEEE!” Jimmy squeals as he finally bursts through the door, and I can’t help but laugh. If anyone was as obsessed with Jersey Shore as I was, it was definitely Jimmy. He instantly freezes to the spot as he takes a look around the room wide eyed at the flour destruction, before landing on me and Drake on the pool table “Holy crap it looks like a crack den in here.”

“We had a mishap with some baking ingredients.” Drake finally speaks, the frustrated look he had on his face a few seconds ago completely gone as he looks at Jimmy with a grin on his face. He turns his head to look up at me “Not that I’m complaining Mimi, but you going to get off me sometime soon? I don’t know how long I can hold this boner back for.”

“Ergh.” I scowl, getting off him and back on my feet. He gets off the table, standing next to me.

“Don’t lie, you would have loved it.” He smirks at me, and for some reason I actually feel my face heat up because I know he was talking about the ‘almost’ that just happened between us.

Sad thing is, I knew I probably would have loved it.

What the hell just happened though? I mean seriously he was going in for the kill a minute ago. Me and Drake don’t do ‘almosts’. The only ‘almosts’ we do is manslaughter. On each other.

Not baby making.

I shook my head mentally. It was a moment of weakness caused by flour fumes.

Yeah, that excuse would stand up in court.

He was back to normal so I took it as a cue that we completely forget about what just happened. Did anything even happen? I mean yes, he was moving his head forward but knowing Drake it was probably to lick flour off of my face. We had been in that position before only it was with whipped cream.

Why do I always have substances on my face which he could happily lick off?!

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” Nate’s screams make us both jump, and I turn to the double glass doors and see my brother stood there, his eyes glued to the pool table and an expression on his face that looks like he’s about to cry.

He takes small steps into the room, his eyes never leaving the pool table.

Suddenly, I realise why my brother looks like I’ve just accidently kicked his new-born child in the face.

“Look at it!” He yells, his hands gesturing towards the table which was covered in flour and wet stains from the little dip Drake and I had in the pool.

And the place we almost dipped each other…         

“Nate, calm down-“

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