Don't Play With My Heart - A Jai Brooks Fan Fiction (Watty Awards 2014)

Chapter 7: Fearless

A/N

Another week, another update :) am apologising for the short chapter in advance; it's been a bit of a big week....and I had a bit of writers block :/ but please enjoy :) xx

P.S I don't know if you guys have been doing this but if you can, please listen to the song on the youtube video to the side bc I'm not sure if you've noticed that I've called the chapters by the songs that they're based on (:P) and I think that the lyrics fit with the chapter's story....feel free to comment to say if I'm way off though :P

Tamara’s POV

 “It’s not too much trouble?” I ask, feeling a little bit guilty.

 “Trust me. It’s the least I can do considering my asshole brothers ate everything. Anyway, you’d be doing me a favour; I need a break from those two once in a while,” he replied.

 He led the way down the street. He told me it was a surprise so I didn’t question him.

 “Oh, wait. I left my wallet on the table,” I say.

 He grabbed my wrist, not forcefully or angrily, and it was like someone had lit my hand on fire. His touch gave me goosebumps; no-one had ever made me feel like this before.

 “Don’t even think about it. Breakfast is on me,” he smiled.

 There I go again, melting at the sight of that gorgeous toothy smile of his.

 “You sure?”

 “Absolutely.”

 We kept on walking, his hand still holding mine, and it made it hard to concentrate on what he was saying. He has really soft hands, and so warm. His lips were moving, but the feel of his hand in mine drowned out the noise.

 “Tamara?”

 “O-oh. S-sorry,” I stammer out.

 Why did this boy have to make me so nervous?

 “It’s okay. I was just saying that we never got to finish our conversation this morning. You know, the one about your boyfriend details,” he said, almost sing-song-like.

 “Oh, right. So you’re gonna think this is lame; but I’ve never had a boyfriend,” I say, blushing.

 He didn’t answer for a bit and he dropped my hand. I assumed the worst.

 “I knew it; you think I’m an idiot.”

 “No. No, definitely not. I just needed a moment to process that you – a pretty girl like you, would not have guys chasing you to the ends of the earth,” he replies.

 “C’mon. Are you kidding me right now? Look at me.”

 “I have looked at you. And you’re really pretty. Trust me, I’m a guy,” he says with a smile, looking at me with his sparkling brown eyes.

 “Thanks,” I reply blushing.

 Except on the inside I was doing somersaults. How amazing was it that a gorgeous, correction, god-like, guy would say that I’m pretty. Me of all people. I didn’t really know what to say after, and I felt really awkward.

 “You wanna drop round to yours to get some clothes? Maybe you could grab some for the party or whatever,” he says, to break the silence, “it’s on the way. I mean, I know how you girls are with your appearance and stuff.”

 “Yeah, actually. I don’t mean to sound rude or anything, but I feel really daggy in these clothes,” I giggle.

 “Oh. I see how it is,” he said in mock hurt.