Trouble's Favorite

Chapter 3

‘You’re not even my type.’

     Okay. It took me almost forever to forget those words. I was so mad at myself for believing that he was totally different from what I thought. Oh, please. He’s not even my type, too!

     I got startled when my phone rang. I got a call from Kean. It was nearly 9:00 in the evening.

     “Yo,” said his deep voice. He had this Spanish accent that I really admired. Cute, huh?

      “Yeah?”

     “Can I come over?”

     “Now? You mean right now?”

      He seems to be nodding, “Mmm-hmm.”

     “Oh, okay.” I gave out a smile. At least I won’t be alone at home. Mom and dad are off for work. Mom’s a doctor and my dad’s handling our family business, the main reason why they spend lesser time at home.

     It was five minutes after Kean called when the door bell rang. I opened it and saw Kean holding a bag of chips. Did I mention that he lived just a few blocks away?

     Kean Montez was my only guy best friend. He was tall and had a messy hair. Messy in a way that you could say it’s part of his fashion. He was cute. Not to mention he was undeniably hot with those huge biceps. Yeah, girls hate seeing me around him and I get paranoid by the very fact that he was the first one to come and talk to me.

     He gave me a grin & waved his hand. “Hi!”

     My jaw dropped. Is it just me or does he really look stunning tonight? He was wearing a black leather jacket and a V-neck shirt underneath it. Haaaaaaawt! Why do you have to be my best friend? It's frustrating!

     “Done checking me out?” he mocked before changing his expression. “What? Are you letting me in or not? I’m freezing here,” he said, rubbing his hands together.

     “Oh,” was the only word I could utter.

     I opened the door wider, signaling him to come inside.

     He immediately took off his jacket and sat comfortably onto the couch, relaxing his feet on the table.

     “You have the habit of making yourself at home, you know that?”

     He nodded and tapped his palm on the couch, “Sit.” I followed as he said. He opened some chips and offered some to me.

     I comforted myself on the couch sitting next to him, the chips in between us. “You act like you’re in your house when you’re not.”

     He just smiled and nodded. He was so into watching his soccer game.

     “What are you doing here, anyway?”

     He had mouthful of tacos in his mouth, “Just wanna have some air and talk.”

     “Talk about what? Oh, please. If you’re talking about girls again, I won’t be listening,” shaking my head repeatedly.

     “No, no. Not girls. You,” he said, pointing a finger at me.

     “Me?” I frowned.

     He nodded and gave me a serious look. “Do you like someone?”

      Why the hell was he asking me that? “No.”

     “Good.”

     “Good?” I repeated.

     He ignored my comment and asked me another question. “You’re dating someone?”