“Why are you being so dramatic? You’re worse than my four-year-old cousin.” He yawns in my direction, sounding bored, patting his mouth. “I am not leaving this porch until you let me back in!” Athletes aren’t the only ones with determination. I stomp my foot like a petulant child, the stubborn side of me kicking in like a knee-jerk reaction. Why is he being like this? Doesn’t he know how rude it is for me to just disappear on my friends? Under any other circumstances, I never would have walked out on them and left them inside. “If you have a phone tucked away in there, get it out and text your friends. Inside.” His eyes trek the length of my zipper, searching for the pockets at my sides. Are you watching my lips? Are you paying attention? Because I’m only going to say this one more time.” My face is naked and fresh, not likely to bend any guy to my will, let alone this one. I bat my eyelashes, wishing I at least threw on one coat of mascara before leaving the house tonight. “Quick like a bunny?” He rubs his jaw, the unshaven scruff scratching. “I’ll be quick like a bunny and tell them I’m leaving?” “Please just let me run inside.” I try not to beg. I glance down at my shoes, shuffling my feet, then out toward the street to stop myself from staring directly at his white teeth and chiseled jaw and stupid, sparkling eyes. “Resisting an officer? Hell yeah it is.” He smirks, and god is he cute.
“If I were actually an undercover cop, I’d have you arrested for resisting an officer.” “Is this a court of law or have I somehow entered a special kind of purgatory?” “Oh, I have a case now?” I ask sarcastically with an eye roll heavenward. Why are you arguing?” One mammoth paw scratches across his stupidly sexy square jaw.
“I’m under strict orders not to let you back in.”
“Can I at least go back inside and tell my friends you’re kicking me out?” I wonder how tacky it would be for me to wrap it around my neck while he stands there, shuddering every so often, covered in goose bumps.
Thoughts straying from his handsome face to the warm scarf buried in my bag. Locked in a battle of wills, neither one willing to bend, my teeth chattering the slightest bit. It’s awkward and inconvenient and we’re out here on the porch in the cold, shivering. If this is a joke, it isn’t funny-not at all. “What are you, an undercover cop?” I’m sassing now, turning my embarrassment into a thinly veiled joke. “Escort me from the premises?” I muse, rubbing my chin. I’m laughing like an idiot, and he’s staring at me like I’ve lost my damn mind and now there is no way he’s going to let me back inside. I can’t handle moments like this they make me uncomfortable when I’m not prepared, and this cold weather isn’t helping matters.
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