Not Your Type (Chris Pine FanFic)

Colorado Late Night

Chelsea sat on the couch across from Melissa and Brian, who sat legs crossed on the floor in front of the coffee table. Pictionary was a mess of used paper slips and dull pencils on the lower table. They had separated into pairs, essentially couples with the exception of the old high school friends. Jake and Jennifer were dominating, nearing the end of the game board. Mr. and Mrs. Carter had all but given up, they no longer focused on drawings or watching the other teams. Chelsea's parents asked Chris questions between turns. Politely, Chris always answered. Chelsea blamed their last place position on his kindness and her current state of exhaustion. She stifled a yawn.

"Tired?" Chris asked softly, into the side of her head. Chelsea nodded while she watched Melissa sketch quickly.

"Dog sled!" Brian shouted.

"Oh my gawd, no," Melissa moaned.

Chelsea laughed and leaned into Chris, "Exhausted." Chris' arm was lazily resting on the back of the couch, his hand draped on her shoulder. Chelsea slid her hand up and laced her fingers through his. It was comfortable, natural and felt like they had been sitting on the Carter's old couch like this for years.

"Saint Bernard!" Brian guessed.

Melissa stopped drawing and laid her head on the coffee table, "You are the worst partner ever."

Chris laughed, "Hardly, check our position."

"Hey! Did you just call me the worst partner ever?" Chelsea turned to face Chris. Their faces were inches from each other. Her parents sat just on the other side of Chris, laughing at Melissa's reaction, but they disappeared. The only thing Chelsea could focus on was her strong desire to kiss Chris. His lips, oh his lips, her eyes were glued on them.

"Something tells me your mind isn't on Pictionary," Chris spoke, his voice deep and low.

Chelsea sighed, Chris was right her mind was not on the game. But it also wasn't just where Chris thought it was. The day had been a whirlwind. Though traveling just meant sitting in a plane or in an airport for hours, it always wore her out. The exhaustion was compounded by the emotional overload of seeing her family, drinking with her friends and finding Chris in her grandparents' living room. Even though her body grew heavy, she still longed to kiss him. She missed those full lips of his, but this was her parents house. Even when she had been married it felt wrong to fool around with her husband. If her parents knew the things she and Chris had done, the thought caused her to blush. The red on her cheeks caused Chris to wink at her. Chelsea shook her head and turned her focus back to the game.

"It was a chariot. A chariot! How the, I mean, how do you get a dog out of that?" Melissa snapped angrily at her partner.

"That is not a horse," Brian asserted as his partner threw the pencil down in disgust.

"Whose turn is it now?" Melissa mumbled, frustrated that they had squandered their chance to roll again and possibly win.

"Ours," Chris said, leaning forward and grabbing the dice. Chelsea watched her family watch him, they seemed to admire his good looks as much as she did. Each time he did something an awed hush came over her family. He turned and faced her, "It's your roll," he placed the dice in her hand, allowing his finger tips to linger on her skin just a second longer than necessary. Chelsea shook and tossed a seven. "Let's take you to Vegas," Chris joked as she moved their piece.

"All play," she stated.

"Get this, Brian." Melissa instructed, "Get this and we win."

"And the rest of us can go to bed," Chelsea whispered.