Four Guys (a short story.)

AIDEN, the irresistibly handsome frienemy.

I could tell the sound of Edward Cullen's worried shouting from a mile away which is equivalent to me deciphering it even though I'd only been awake for five seconds.

The sounds were coming from the television downstairs and the first word that popped into my mind was: "burglary".

Due to my messed up morning thinking my mind told me the burglar must have turned on the TV to drown out the sounds of his devious acts which really wasn't necessary practically everyone in my house was a heavy sleeper. I considered lying down and letting him get away with whatever he was doing but the thought of ice cream being stolen from the fridge jolted me out of my bed and out of my room.

I grabbed Mike's bat at the top of the stairs and carefully descended with it high above my head in swing-to-kill mode. I could hear the action movie soundtrack in my head like I was James Bond just about to attack the evil guy. My "gun" was drawn out of my suit, the safety was off and my fingers were on the trigger as I stealthily descended the stairs.

On reaching the bottom of the stairs, I cocked the gun and yelled at the figure attacking my couch in the dark room with the TV as the only source of light, "hands up!"

The spotlight shone on the criminal and he jolted upright, the fog cleared to reveal... Aiden!

Upon closer inspection he lifted the remote and shook it, his head shaking in disbelief as well, "Really dude. Every single morning of every single day you do this. Any normal person would have known that I'm here every morning to–"

"Use your television." I chorused with him, the conversation we have every morning coming to mind.

Aiden flopped on the couch his eyes drifting back to the movie on the TV. The light from the television cast unto his face revealing his beautiful model worthy-feautures. My eyes traveled down his neck, broad masculine shoulders and a bare chest that seemed golden. It was like there was a halo on each of the eight abs fixed on his chest.

My mind replayed a scene from one of the sappy romance movies Tatiana had forced me to watch; Aiden before me, shirtless. The distance before us nothing more than a centimeter. His breath fanning my face. He'd have me cornered to the wall and he'll be looking at me like he was trying to memorize every detail of my face. He'll hold my chin and make me look at him. I'll skim my eyes over his face and watch his eyes drop go my lips, mine to his. He'll hold my waist and like the gentleman he is, he'll ask whether he can kiss me and I'll nod and goosebumps would appear on my arms. Then he'll lean in and I'll place a palm on his solid chest and feel it contract under my touch. Then, he'll close his eyes and I'll do the same and finally his mouth would be–

"First you ogled me and I pretended not to see it and now you're daydreaming about me." His annoyingly deep voice jolted me back to life and I felt my face heat up while he tutted.

He dropped his leg from the coffee stool and crossed one over the other, "I thought I told you ten years ago that I wasn't into you and I remember you swore you didn't like me either?"

I snorted, embarrassment burning in my chest as the images of Aiden breaking my tender seven year old heart. Aiden had found the love letter I wrote to him in my backpack and read it silently in the classroom with his friends around him.

"Flashback time?" Aiden teased drily.

I rolled my eyes and snorted yet again until I remembered he was the last guy I had to hang out with. I immediately seized the opportunity to change the topic.

"It's kind of chilly out. I'm going to grab a coffee in an hour, you coming?"

He shook his head immediately, "you'll drive us into a bush daydreaming about what kissing me will feel like."