68 Days And Counting

Chapter Two: Fate Is An Evil Spirit.

I have like have seven chapters ahead of this one tbh.

SHOCKINGLY I ACTUAL HAVE THE THOUGHT OF HOW THE ENDING OF THIS STORY GOING TO GO...IT'LL BE COOL DW OR IT'LL BE BAD IDC ITS MY STORY :)

Twitter: @_nikkiofficialw

Chapter Two: "Fate Is An Evil Spirit."

I OPENED THE door to Sam's flat. He and his cousin Peter lived in a huge penthouse, even bigger than the one Caleb had back home. Their rooms were in two separate hallways so each could have their privacy which they both incredibly needed seeing as Peter sometimes liked to walk around naked. I haven't seen that and I really hope I would never have to see that.

I almost tripped on one of Sam's shoes in the hallway. I knew they were his because they were white All Star Converse. I took my shoes off and slid across the hardwood floor.

I didn't even bother finding out where Sam was. I immediately went into the large kitchen and grabbed a Pop-Tart, unwrapped it and put it in the toaster. There was always a pack of them just for me because I was here at least once a week.

"Hazel?" His clear voice rang through the place.

"Kitchen!" I yelled back as I heard his footsteps.

Sam came into the room, a textbook in his hand and he ruffled his wet hair with a towel before flinging it onto the counter. And he was shirtless.

Why was he shirtless? I asked myself, not really complaining.

His hair was messy in different wet strands but he still made it work. He had sweats on as his eyes trailed over the book, not taking his eyes off of it even as he reached me. "How was practice this morning?"

"It was fine," I said as he put his book down, reaching into the fridge to grab a bottle of Coke.

Just as he was about to raise the bottle to his pink lips, he stopped and raised an eyebrow at me. "It was fine?" He put the bottle down on the island, leaning against it and crossing his muscled arms.

"Well, I'm sore as hell. My legs feel as if they tried to run around the world...at least eight times. I could barely keep my eyes open as I tried to study for my exam for Monday. So yes I am totally and completely fine." I closed my eyes and leaned against the fridge, feeling the cool steel against my back and I almost released a sigh.

"My poor baby." I could clearly hear the mock in tone even as he included the stupid word of endearment.

I reached out with my eyes closed and managed to hit him on the chest. "Stupid Jerk."

I felt his fingers pull at the zipper of my sweater until it reached the bottom. He pushed the sleeves off of my shoulders, taking my sweater off and putting it away. Sam's warm hands were found at my hips, pushing my shirt just a fraction up before skimming the sliver of skin.

"Honey I'm home!" Oh my God seriously? I thought as my eyes flew open to meet Sam's annoyed expression.

"Fuck." He whispered, not taking his hands off me as he looked over his shoulder at Peter.

Peter Robin Cahill. He was Vince Cahill's brother's son. With brown eyes and brown hair, he sounded like a regular everyday guy but like every Cahill boy he was considered to be insanely attractive not that I've noticed. I didn't actually care.

But right now he was what Sam would call the biggest something blocker right now.

I was annoyed as I plastered a fake smile on my face. "Peter."