HARD TIMES ━ lip gallagher²

08 | christmas savior

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"I SWEAR TO GOD I just saw a rat dart across the hallway," Lip's voice said from behind her, and Amara straightened and turned to face him. He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, blonde hair tossed. The white tank top he was wearing did justice to his muscles, and she had to force herself to look away.

"Literally never say that again, I don't need that thought in my head as I'm trying to set up my bed."

Lip stepped further into the room. "I liked your old room better."

"What? You mean the chipped walls and vomit stained carpet?"

"It wasn't all vomit," he shrugged. "There was a few piss, too. You know, from the couple of times I couldn't make it to the toilet."

"Better than in my bed I guess."

"Yeah, I preferred to do other things in your bed."

"Ha-Ha."

"This really sucks," he sighed, flopping onto her mattress. "I keep wanting to go next door and annoy you but then I remember I have to walk two blocks to do that."

She sunk next to him and rested her head against the wall. "Yeah," Amara agreed quietly. "I know. I hate it too."

"No more throwing rocks at your window to get your attention."

"Yeah, now you have to walk up all those steps."

She felt him move his head to look at her. Immediately her cheeks heated. "Worth it."

Amara glanced over to meet his gaze, and kicked his leg. "Shut up."

She hated that smirk that played on his mouth. And she hated the butterflies that formed in her stomach at the sight of it. And she hated the next words that escaped his lips. "Make me."

Amara narrowed her eyes and reached across him to snatch up a pillow, whacking him repeatedly with it, before both of them were breathless with laughter. He'd managed to grab another pillow to fight back—and her hair, which had been in a tight ponytail—had slipped out and cascaded down her back, no doubt a complete frizzy mess.

She hadn't even realized that she climbed fully on top and was now straddling him until one of his hands skimmed the outer part of her thigh, and her giggles lodged up in her throat. Amara stilled as his fingers traveled farther up her leg, stopping right below her hip.

"What're you doing?" Her question came out in a hoarse whisper, but Lip just shook his head and drew patterns on her jeans. It was hard to resist Lip Gallagher, but Amara had managed to do it after a bunch of internal battles, and she rolled off him to stand. She swallowed thickly and stared at herself in the mirror she'd just strung up on the wall, fixing her clothes, and pulled her hair back up. "So did you come here for something?"

Lip cleared his throat and pushed himself into a sitting position. "Oh, uh, right. I have this thing for college. My old professor is really lending me a helping hand, says the council might allow me back into the school if I go to it. It's sort of like an appeal."

Amara raised her brow and looked at him. "That's good. I was furious with you when you got kicked out, you know."

"Couldn't tell," he replied, running a hand through his hair. "Well, I need someone to be a character witness. And I thought who better than you, whose known me since birth."

"I think Fiona is better fitting for that category," Amara replied, noticing the way his jaw clenched. "But I'm assuming you're pissed at her because of the whole laundromat thing, which really isn't your place, but I guess it's not mine either, so I'll shut up. But yeah, sure. I'll go."