Protecting The Bad Boy

Chapter Eleven

Short chapter today, sorry for that! I also apologise that it's not Friday, but are you really surprised haha? This definitely isn't one of my favourites but I needed to upload so, here it is (:

Not proof-read so please ignore any mess-ups.

Picture of the pretty girl that plays Cleo, Bates Motel or Ouija anyone? (;

Song of the Chapter: Sparks Fly - Taylor Swift (old but always relevant)

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Chapter Eleven: Maybe I'm a Ghost?

"Was that really necessary?" Houston breathes out as he clenches his jaw, still cupping what he considers as his crown jewels.

"Very," I reply, smirking as I tap my black painted fingernails on the table.

"You're such a..."

"Such a, such a what? A bitch for not wanting your hands all over me, no thank you."

Houston doesn't come up with an answer as he glares across the table at me.

"Here you go," the waitress smiles cautiously, placing two glasses of water down on the table. It occurs to me that I hadn't ordered a drink for Houston, but she brought one anyway. Of course.

"Are you okay sir?" She asks Houston, adjusting her uniform skirt and batting her eyelashes. Again, I'm pretty sure that I have suddenly become invisible.

"I... I'm fine thanks," he sighs as he took a sip of his water. He isn't even checking out her cleavage so I'm guessing that he's really concerned about his balls.

"Are you sur-"

"Are you serious right now? I'm pretty sure that we didn't ask for a table for three, don't you have other waitress-y things to be doing?" I snap, why the hell was she still here?

After my outburst, she just nods quickly and leaves the table, leaving me facing a jerk with an amused expression covering his face.

"And what was that Bambi?" He smirks, resting his forearms on the table.

"Nothing, I just didn't appreciate her company, nearly as much as I don't appreciate yours."

"Really? Because I think that was jealously."

I laugh, literally. "Jealously? You think that's what that was? Not even close. If I was actually jealous, her extensions would have definitely been pulled from her head by now and she would have been cussed out all the way into next week," I smile, running a hand through my hair. "Trust me, you'd know if I was jealous."

"Alright then," Houston laughs as a different waitress brings our food to the table, I'm not surprised.

"This is amazing," I moan into my mouthful of spaghetti after I start eating.

"Spaghetti? Who orders spaghetti on a date?" Houston quirks his eyebrow, poking his garden salad around the bowl.

I swallow and scoff, "a date? No. Purely just two friends hanging out. Actually no, just one friend and a guy that she can't really stand hanging out."

"Why do you hate me so much?" He questions seriously. The mood on the table changes.

I cough awkwardly. "I... I guess I'm just tired of you. I've been doing this case, your case, for so long now; it almost feels like you've stolen my teenage years from me. It's been years of watching you mess around while I had to always be thinking about how I would protect you if something bad were to happen. Always thinking about how I would save you." I stare at my bowl of pasta and continue.