Cheeky

№ 5. Only One

"Peppermint and cheesesticks, peppermint and cheesesticks-"

"For the love of God would you shut up about that!"

I looked up from the couch to Chelsea who was shooting daggers in my direction. I grinned, twining a piece of hair in between my fingers and then lacing it along my upper lip, placing my mouth in a pout as I wiggled my eyebrows. Chelsea's glare quivered, and then broke as she smiled back, shaking her head.

"What are you girls doing in here? Starting the threesome without me?"

George sauntered into the living room and then plopped down next to me. I was still dizzy and grinned at him, suddenly throwing my leg across his lap until I was straddling him. He looked at me surprised, about to speak when I suddenly pressed a finger to his lips sloppily, shushing him.

"Georgie, what do you think of my mustache?"

I stroked the piece of hair that began to tickle my upper lip, but pouted my lips even more to keep it in place. I was also suddenly developing a French accent. I think I would call myself Pierre.

"Quite impressive Barbie," George chuckled, reaching up to touch.

But I swatted his hand away, shaking my head with a disapproving look, "Nobody touches the 'stache!"

George grinned, "And what happens if I do?"

I puffed out my chest, making my accent thicker than ever, "You shall pay severely, with your life!"

"I like a challenge!" George's fingers suddenly found my waist and it went to hell from there.

I was on my back, squashed into the cushions of the sofa as I tried to get him off of me, but it was no use. I was laughing like a mad person and George was having the time of his life torturing me. My lungs started to burn as I choked and laughed simultaneously, and his eyes gazed out at me playfully from between his curls of chocolate brown.

But his touch started to feel different, weird, and I suddenly stopped fighting so hard. His fingers slowed their pace as he reached up to my face and grasped the piece of hair on my upper lip. I could feel his warm breathe start to stick to my cheek and I realized how close we were. He was gentle, taking the strand between his thumb and index fingers, and then set his gaze on me.

It was that same look, the one that made my skin crawl, and I swallowed because of how hard I had suddenly sobered up. His lips were so close to mine and our breathing was harsh as I settled down from the tickle attack. My knees were pressed against his chest and my hands had clutched onto his wrists in an attempt to stop him earlier. Our positions were very...tense, and I became aware that Chelsea was only a few feet away. What the hell was he doing? His girlfriend is right there and I haven't even been in this country a day.

But it feels right, I don't know why, and some small part of me, perhaps that hormonal area, was screaming to reach up and plant my lips firmly on his. Would it be so bad?

"I win," He suddenly whispered and threw the strand of hair to the side, patting me annoyingly on the head before slumping back and laughing. Yes, yes it would be bad. It would be horrible and disgusting and just, urgh! I glared at him, sitting up and looking sheepishly to my left where Chelsea sat with her head back staring up at the ceiling. I'm an ass.

"I gotta get a move on, but I better see you there tonight Chels," George said as he stood up from the couch. He made his way to the door and Chelsea stood up to walk after him. They hugged and I made sure to keep my head down. But George looked past Chelsea to me and smirked.

"I'll be seeing you there as well, Barbie," and with that he left.

I looked to Chelsea who was wearing a bored expression and had wandered back to the couch to flip on the tv.