The Bad Boy of Mine

Chapter 21 ll No one can stop me from fantasizing about Ian Somerhalder now.

Zoey's POV

I flush deeper, crimson red almost.

"Would you rather I think of other guys?" I ask playfully. Distraction always works.

"Other guys, such as?" He smirks.

"Such as Seth, Caden and Jacob," I smirk back at him. He stops smirking. Oh no. My smirk falters immediately.

His eyes darken, he shifts around so that he's completely facing me, "Oh no, I don't think so, Bambi."

"Ew! That pet name again! No!" I squeal as my face morphs into disapproval. Bambi? It's so cliche and I'm not an animal.

"Bambi bambi bambi," Chris teases while smiling down at me in delight.

"No no no!"

"Yes yes yes," he whispers, then a fleeting look of realisation hits him across his face. His eyes harden.

"You're trying to distract me," he muses. Shit, busted. "Seth, Caden and Jacob, huh?" His face is impassive, but I can easily feel the intensity radiating off him. Everything with him is intense. Exceptionally intense.

I remain taciturn. What is he going to do? My heart is pumping fast with anticipation. He inches closer to me.

Just when I think he's going to do something really intimidating and hot, Chris does something I never expected him to do even if I paid him a million bucks.

He pouts.

He pouts!

And I'm not talking about a subtle, conservative pout, but a full-on, I-can-be-cute-if-I-want-to pout.

Words fail me. The ability to speak ditches me like Gianna ditches boys at parties the next day.

How...?

Chris pouting... is hot.

"They are not even that strong and hot!" He huffs, then folds his arms across his chest.

Oh my.

"I'm stronger and hotter!" With his pouting lips, his eyebrows furrow.  He's so cute and hot, I just want to pinch his cheeks then kiss him. I grin at his cuteness, then straighten my body.

I wipe off the grin from my face and clear my voice, "Are you trying to be cute?"

The pout leaves his lips. His face is instantly etched with horror and bewilderment. I guess he didn't quite know what he is doing.

"Cute? No! Are trying to wound my ego?" He gasps.

I laugh. Even now he looks cute.

"Are you laughing at me?"

I giggle at him, his lips twitch in amusement.

"Oh yes."

"Don't laugh at me."

I continue my shameless giggling, then, I watch as his eyes darken into an intense shade of blue.

He leans in closer to me, then in a very low voice, he murmurs, "You can only laugh with me," he is so close to me, I can feel his warm breath across my face, "I want you to only laugh with me. Not at me."

My breathing hitches. Will he stop being so romantic! And that doesn't even make sense, of course I'll laugh at him - though laughing with him sounds a lot more appealing.

"Okay," I breathe.

Then he leans back and resumes pouting, like a adorable adolescent. 

What?