Fracture

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

*SLIGHT SMUT WARNING*

Song of the chapter

I SHOULD HATE YOU; Gracie Abrams

"'Cause we didn't happen the way we were supposed to."

"I should hate you, I feel stupid."

"And I swear to God I'd kill you, if I loved you less hard."

❊-♡︎Scarlett♡︎-❊

Sitting in my kitchen, I was staring at the wall contemplating calling Patrick. I wanted to talk to him, even if it was just a stupid conversation.

Everyone was out aside from me and the house felt cold and empty. I hated being home, but I felt as if I had nothing to do.

A knock on the door startled me and I quickly got to my feet and raced to answer it. Swinging open the door my breath caught at the sight of Patrick.

He looked extremely hot in faded jeans, a forest green jumper and sneakers. His eyes met mine and he shot me a dimpled smile.

And I swear my knees almost gave out.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, standing with the door wide open.

"Can I come in?" He asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Yeah," I nodded, moving out of the way so he could walk past me.

Closing the door behind him, I muttered, "Let's go to my room."

Heading upstairs and into my room Patrick silently followed me. I shut my bedroom door and turned to see Patrick seated on my bed.

"So, you're here why?" I raised a brow.

"To see you. I've missed you," He shot me a crooked grin, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that phone call."

Shit.

He had to mention the phone call, the image of him in his jocks flashing into my mind, making me blush.

"You're thinking of that picture, aren't you?" He smirked, leaning against my headboard.

"No!" I lied, crossing my arms as I took a seat next to him.

"I'm really here to say I'm sorry," His expression became serious, "I'm a fucking eejit. I swear to you, if I'd known she'd tell your family."

"Okay, you still told her," I hissed.

"I know," He frowned, "I only wanted to help. I know it was stupid, I should've kept your secret."

"It's fucking hard to hate you," I dropped my head into my hands, "I can't hate you, but I should."

"Don't hate me," He gave me puppy dog eyes, "I can't lose you."

"You keep fucking me over," I groaned, "When are you going to get your shit together and stop? Because it's getting old."

"I know," He nodded, "I know. I swear to you, I'll get it together."