Bet On It | H. Styles

xxii

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At one point during this trip I knew it would be a mistake living in the same house as an engaged couple. An engaged couple high on life since in a couple of days they were to be married.

Normally this would be when people start panicking and freaking out, stressing overtime, but, Patty and Derek? Complete opposite.

After my day out on the town, I decided to come back home and relax the rest of the evening, deciding we had all week to go out and be rambunctious– well, me that is. I figured Patty and Derek would be done on the beach but I didn't realize what they could possibly be doing to fill their time. And what a surprise that would be.

I left around one, spent about three hours shopping and eating. Riding a bike with two bags on each handle proved to be a little difficult, especially since I was also eating ice cream, but after about a forty-five minute ride back to the house, I returned without a scratch.

On my trip I realized how zen it was to bike ride. It was so peaceful regardless of all the energy I exerted. My knee liked to ache in pain but I pushed all thoughts of suffering to the back of my mind just to appreciate everything else.

But those thoughts of suffering came back into play when I stepped foot back into the house. I walked upstairs to my room to place down my bags, mindlessly avoiding my surroundings. Venturing back down the stairs though I realized I probably should've made my entrance more known.

I grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, walking over to the living room, immediately halting in my place. Derek and Patty were so caught up in their own world they hadn't heard me come in. Not that I was being loud but I would think hearing a door shutting right near them would be pretty inevitable.

Patty was a moaning mess under Derek. Her legs wrapped around his waist and bottom, her nails scratching down his back. Surprisingly, his hand was around her neck, tight enough to the point of where all the noises she made came out breathy and gargled.

I dropped my water on the floor, catching their attention almost immediately. I honestly should've thrown the bottle at them. In my holy home they choose to do this. Not even in their perfectly fine bedroom.

"Are you insane?" I gasped, throwing my hands over my eyes.

"Wendy?" They asked in unison. I heard them scrambling to get off the couch, the ruffle of the blankets making noise as well.

"Who the fuck else would it be?" I yelled. I backed away from them to go to the kitchen to get a towel to clean up all of the spilt water.

"We didn't hear you come in," Patty rushed, scurrying across the floor to me.

"Do not come near me," I hissed, hitting away her hand that landed on my shoulder.

"Don't be dramatic," Derek huffed as he put on his clothes. I could tell he was frustrated and I'm sure he didn't get to finish. Probably suffering from blue-balls right about now.

"You're having sex! In the living room! On my couch! And I just walked in on you! Of course I'm going to be dramatic!"

"Well, we were having sex," Derek retaliated. "Now, we're not, so, you're being dramatic about it."

"I'm completely fine in stabbing you, don't think I won't."

"I don't think that'd run over smoothly with Patty."

"I'll stab her too, simple."

"Hey!"

"Dramatic."

I picked up one of the knives in the display, taking a step closer to Derek, Patty rushing in between the two of us.

"Okay, okay! Wendy, in order for this wedding to happen, the groom kind of has to be there. So, please, don't stab him. Or me. I have to be there too," Patty chuckled, grasping the knife from me as I continued to send daggers to Derek who just sat back down on the couch.