Bringing Back Hallie

Bringing Back Hallie: Chapter Sixteen

A/N--So this chapter is quite the filler, but I find it cute so whatever :) The next few chapters will definitely have some looking forward to, I believe, so yeah.  There's still more to come!  But even though this chapter isn't all that exciting, it could still use some love so any comments and votes would be much appreciated!  Hope you guys all enjoy :)

"What the hell, Ethan?" I scream as I surface the pool water, pushing my now sopping wet hair out of my what-are-sure-to-be-raccoon eyes now. We were outside having such a nice time. He'd just gotten done mowing the farther part of the land my dad owns, and me, being the wonderful girlfriend that I am, brought him out an ice-cold water to cool him down.  

And he was very thankful at first; he kissed me sweetly and then asked me how my day had been. Somewhere in that conversation we started teasing each other, calling each other names-basically flirting our asses off-and I'd called him something particularly funny and he'd picked me up and slung me over his wonderfully bare shoulder.  

Then the little shit threw me into the pool. 

When I have shoes on and everything. 

He's cracking up right now, full on belly laughing at the look of utter fury on my face, as he stands on the edge of the pool, completely and utterly dry. It's slowly starting to dawn on me how much my boyfriend loves to pick on me, how he takes so much pride in making me blush or making me mad. This new incident is a prime example. 

"Sorry babe," he says in between his laughter, "I just had to do it." 

"No you didn't!" I argue back loudly, knowing that no one's here to come outside and yell at me for being so loud. My mom and Darla are out shopping once again, and my dad's down in his studio. "I have shoes on, for Christ's sake!" 

He laughs again and while he's busy enjoying himself so much, I reach under the water and pull off my now completely soaked black Converse. And then I chuck them over at his perfectly defined stomach reveling in absolute delight when he curses from the contact. 

"Hals!" he cries after the second one hits right beneath his ribs, the thud even being able to reach my ears.  

"Don't be such a tit," I say haughtily, crossing my arms over my chest and poking my tongue out him. That ridiculously hurt expression on his face fades at my insult, and he just smiles instead, probably thinking that he's crazy for dating a girl who says shit like that.  

It's then I take the time to check him out, my eyes not being able to waver from his tanned, sweaty chest for too long. It's on perfect display; it really is, since he's wearing nothing but the gym shorts he always cuts the grass in. He's not disgustingly muscular what with muscles popping out of his neck and shoulders and whatnot. Instead he's got a faintly shown six-pack, not one too out on display, and that perfect V-shape in his waist that disappears deep into the depths of his red shorts.  

Gorgeous. 

"Done checking me out yet or what?" he asks, amusement clear as day in his voice. And when I meet eyes with him, I see a very content-with-himself Ethan.  

My cheeks flare up with the realization that I've been caught, but I really can't be too bothered about him. He's my boyfriend; it's my right to shamelessly gaze at his body. It's got to be in the bible or something. So instead of lingering on that too much, I just smile up at him and then ask, "You going to get in or what?" 

"I don't know..." he trails off mischievously, as if he is really going to leave me in this water by myself. But he knows better. He knows that I know he knows better. 

Whipping my arm across the water to splash him, I say threateningly, "You better get your ass in this water, Ethan Crest." 

"I like 'em feisty," he says chuckling before leaping into the air, his body plunking down in the water just a foot or so away from me. The water from his splash completely covers my face for a second or so, but before I can go to wipe the water off, I feel his hands grab at my waist underneath the water.