Tatum's POV:
I woke up the next morning around almost noon, thanking the Lord that I got some sleep. I yawned and stretched, pushing hair out of my face as I rubbed my eyes. After prying myself out of bed, I jumped into the shower. Ross wants to hang out again today, and I mean, I wanna smell good.
After having a warm, relaxing shower, I had to give it up. Yes it was painful, but what are you gonna do? I grasped a towel and walked into my huge closet, looking through a bunch of clothes that I don't wear. I own so many clothes, but don't wear half of them. But isn't that the main struggle a girl has these days? Or maybe I'm just weird. Is it just me?
I picked out an outfit, and threw it on, right before sliding on my black converses and skipping down the steps. Outfit on top.
I carefully grabbed a glass from the top of the tall cabinet, and poured in some orange juice. My phone buzzed in my back pocket, causing me to spill some because the vibration scared the crap out of me. I cleaned up my sticky mess and guess who the text was from? Ross.
Sexy: Hey, you better be ready. I'll be there in ten.
Whew! I got ready just at the right time. I was smart this morning. I chugged my orange juice within seconds and placed my glass in the sink. I skipped into the living room, switching on the television. Me being me, I turned the channel to Disney Channel, to see Austin & Ally on. I got lucky this morning.
"I love you, Ally."
"I love you too, Austin."
I felt a pang of jealously hit me hard as those words were spoken. And to make it worse, Austin and Ally kissed. But I shouldn't be jealous. It's just acting. And besides, I'm too young for Ross, and he's too old for me. He'd never be attracted to me anyways.
There was a knock on the door, causing me to jump a bit. I was so caught up in the show, and thinking, I must've forgotten that Ross was coming. Me being stupid, I didn't turn off the television, and just walked to the door, swinging it open.
A beautiful blonde stood there with a smile plastered on his face. His hair was parted perfectly as it fell everywhere, looking flawless. Oh, how bad I wanted to run my fingers through it. His black button up shirt was unbuttoned once again, showing his muscular chest and showing off his muscles as they tensed in the shirt. His denim jeans with rips bigger than all in his knees, looked amazing. He was so sexy, but not even close to being mine. His ordinary beat up converse made him even more hot. Whew.
"Ross . . . h-hey," I stuttered. Dang it, he noticed. He laughed and waved a little wave.
"What the heck, Tatum?" He said, sounding ticked. I was confused. Was he mad at me? What did I do? Now I'm nervous. "Where is my hug?"
I sighed in relief, running my fingers through my hair. I stuck my hand out, pushing his chest. "Jesus Ross, I thought you were mad at me! Don't do that!"
He giggled and opened his arms wide, closing his eyes tightly, smiling. He awaited for me to walk into his arms and hug him, and that's just what I did. My short arms wrapped their way around his torso, as I placed my head on his chest. His strong arms wrapped around my body, making me feel safe. I nuzzled my nose into him, as his amazing and unforgettable scent found its way into my nostrils. We stood there, and Ross began rocking us back and forth. I smiled and giggles slightly at his actions.
"Aw, you two make a cute couple. I'm assuming this is Ross?" I heard my mother behind me, probably snapping billions of pictures.
I pulled back from Ross and looked at her, "Mom . . ."
She shrugged and repeated herself. Saying about how cute of a couple we make, and how adorable the hug was that we just shared. My cheeks were a darker shade of pink as my as of now annoying mother carried on.
"Mom, he's eighteen," I looked down, as I tried as hard as I could not to blush. Yes, I like Ross, but I don't need him knowing. Plus, him being the sweetheart he is, will probably just use me as a charity case, because he'll feel bad.
"Yeah? Age is overrated."
Did my mom just speak those words. She'd be okay if I, a fifteen year old, well, almost fifteen year old, was together with an eighteen year old pop star that's all famous and stuff? Maybe she would, but my dad, well, he's a different story.
"Whatever. We're gonna leave before dad gets up and kills-"
"What about dad?" I was cut off my the one person I didn't want to be greeted by while Ross was present. My father.
I absolutely love my father. But when it comes to boys, whether it's my boyfriend or just some kid in friends with, he gets overprotective. He throws questions at them like a cop. He interrogates them until every single thing is straight. It never fails.
"Morning dad," I greeted, rolling my eyes. He looked up and saw Ross as his eyes widened. "Uh, well, we're heading out. Bye guys!" I grabbed Ross's wrist and pulled him towards the door.
"Wait one second young lady," my father's deep raspy morning voice filled my ears, making me cringe. I stopped and I noticed Ross smiling at my dad.
"Tatum, what wrong? Is this your dad?" Ross asked, sliding an arm around my shoulder. I nodded, dying inside.
"Nice to meet you Mr. Prescott. I'm Ross," he explained pulling me back inside. He stuck his hand out to my father, and he took it. Their hand moved together, greeting.
"Alrighty, let's go Ross. Bye mom, bye dad!" I grasped Ross's hand, intertwining our fingers. Man, it felt good. That's the first time I've ever done that.
"Hey, why don't you want me to meet your dad? C'mon Tatum, what are you afraid of? I'll protect you, I promise," he winked, jokingly. I smiled and blushed, looking down.
Looks like today is the day Ross meet my dad . . .
