Never Met a Girl Like Her | ✔️

(33)

L E O N I E

Heath held the back of my head rest as he backed out of my underground parking space.

And no, that was not a sexual innuendo.

He slept over last night. His idea, not mine. Alright, it was mine. But we'd over slept a little bit and if the traffic was shit, he'd be late for his first lecture.

He was going to be driving past school, so I told him that he might as well give me a ride and I would catch a lift home with Bray. There was no other reason for wanting Heath to drive me to school, other than the fact that I wanted to spend more time with him. More time. All the time. I knew I'd be that sort of girlfriend. I mean, I was in the past and it was apparent that I still had that trait. Heath didn't seem to mind.

I watched him pinch his tongue between his full lips. His bicep was flexed and his hair was fluffed, damp after a quick shower. He was devastating. My stomach did some stupid shit whenever I looked at him and appreciated the fact that he was my boyfriend. Swoon.

"Baby," he exhaled a breath and shook his head as he put the car into first and drove through the underground lot. "I can not sleep over during the week. I can't. Apart from the fact that I need to be with Sarah, I'm going to get in the shit if I'm late all the time."

"Sarah was with Alex," I grinned, still watching his strong arms under his fitted T-shirt as he pushed through the gears and merged into the traffic. "And you were the one ignoring the alarm going off on the bedside table."

"Yeah because you woke me up with a blowie," he waved a frantic hand. "Don't get me wrong, I loved it. But I can not make a habit out of this. You're important but—"

"So is school," I nodded, understanding his logic. To be fair, it was one of his most captivating qualities. "Yeah I get it. Fine. No more weekday sleepovers."

He gave me a side on smile and reached across the console so that we could hold hands. This, among a lot of other things, was one of my favourite relationship perks. The hand holding. The couch cuddles. The phone calls. Someone who would join me at eleven at night when I had a craving for fries and needed to go and get some. Last weekend, I got out of bed and found Heath making breakfast in my kitchen. With no shirt on.

We burned the bacon.

"Sarah wanted me to double check that you were still on to meet her at the bridal store this afternoon?" Heath said with his focus on the road. His expression wasn't sour. But it wasn't relaxed. I think he felt a bit weird about the fact that his sixteen year old sister was getting married. Which would be fair in most circumstances. I don't even think that he realised he was doing it.

"Yeah. Wouldn't miss it," I grinned.

We'd booked a private fitting with one of the top designers in Miami. Her dresses were out of this world. Which Sarah deserved. It had to be the best and I'd made sure of that in all of the plans so far. I'd taken on the role of wedding planner. No one asked me to take on that role but I'm both generous and unable sit back and let this happen without my input.

So far we'd settled on a venue, a caterer, a makeup artist, hair stylist and of course, a date. New Year's Day. A new year. A new beginning. A new chapter. Sarah felt that it was appropriate and she was calling the shots. So while there was some disappointment about the fact that we wouldn't be celebrating how we usually would, everyone agreed not to get super ripped on New Year's Eve and spend her wedding in a zombified state.

They then decided to do the drinking at the reception. Whatever. I wasn't even thinking about that. I was a woman on a mission. I promised Sarah and Alex that I would cover all of it. She trusted me to make the right calls on the smaller details and when it came to the big stuff, we decided together.