Faster Than Your Bullets

Chapter 17

"Dry summer and rainy winter." I mumble, rubbing up and down my arms to warm myself. "How is that logical?"

Drew shrugs. "It's pretty okay, really. London's gloomy all the time."

I turn to him, barely aware that my eyes are opening too wide that I probably look a teeny bit insane. "London. It is pretty?"

"Yeah, I guess. Once you've spend a chunk of your life there it'd be just okay." He glances at me. "Never been there?"

I shake my head. "Nah. Never got out of the States. Never got out of two states, exactly." I add under his puzzled glance. "This and New York."

His face is smug. "Poor lamb. Ever dreamed about venturing the world?"

"Maybe." I shoot him a look, but then just pout. "When I finish college, I guess."

"College." Drew pronounce the word with clear distaste. "What you gonna go? Some artistic things?"

"Well," I nudge him with my shoulder. "I'm not good at anything else."

This time, he chuckles and nods.

"Yeah, right."

I glare at him. The asshole just shrugs.

"Slick." I mutter. "No wonder you've never got a girlfriend."

"I thought we've been through this before?"

"We have."

"Shut up, then."

"You're being very rude."

It's still raining and we haven't even got out of the park. We're walking, wandering, actually, while being soaked to the bones. I'm still holding the damn basket. The yellow umbrella is in Drew's hand. We had a debate about whether to open it or not. Drew insisted that we're already wet and the umbrella wouldn't change anything. And he won, just because I stuttered. To my defense, which I keep to myself only, both of his hand were gripping my hips and his body was so fucking close to mine and I have hormones which wants to do dirty things with him gosh.

I've must admitted it. It would be nice to do dirty things with Andrew. Because he is hot. Even hotter up close. I'd rather die than confess it to the British shit, but it seems like he's already known.

I wonder if he has ever wanted to do the same with me, for, you know, I'm pretty hot, too.

Nevermind.

"I've never seen your place." I state, snapping both of us out of our thoughts. He looks at me strangely. I mentally check if I've grown three heads or something of the sort. No. Nothing unusual. Unless telling him to take me home is unusual. Telling him to take me home... That sounds dirtier in my head.

"Yeah, you haven't. And you won't." He snaps. Needless to say it startles me. Like, a minute ago it looked like we were about to make out in the rain since it would be so fucking romantic and then a minute later he's frowning upon my friendly offer as if I've just thrown swear words at him.

"Again, you're being very rude." I point out.

The asshole just rolls his eyes.

"What? You're a hobo?" I push further.

"No." He seems irritated. "Just don't want to show you my flat."

I frown. "Well, you've seen mine."

"Don't make this all about you, Andy."

"Make it about you, then." We've stopped walking. I place my hands on my hips. "You're acting like a total childish bitch."