In My Life, I Love You More (The Beatles)

Chapter 6

John suggested that we take Paul's car because he never uses it anyway. He likes to take cabs now and then. John and I rode in the front of the car and George and Ringo rode in the back seats; this was John's idea. I was so confused as to why Paul was acting the way he was. I never did anything but tell him that he has to go to work today. I don't see what I even did.

"Don't mind Paul. He acts like a jerk when others talk to his girl." John commented, keeping his eyes on the road.

I gasped quietly to myself, doing a double take at John. "What?"

He smirked, "Well you're his girl, and he gets quite jealous whenever someone talks to you. And because you look amazing today." he looked at me, and winked.

My eyebrows furrowed, and I felt this sense of anger suddenly build up in me. "I am not his girl! Did he say that? When did he all of a sudden claim me?"

John couldn't help but laugh at me. He sighed, "Calm down, love. And he has mentioned that you two were getting a little closer,"

Well I can't argue with that. We have been getting a little closer, but I didn't know in what way he was taking it. I was thinking that we were growing closer in friendly-terms. Not in anyway a relationship type! Relationships with people keep you back from what you desire. And that's exactly what happened ever since I met him. I lost my job, I haven't written anything useful in a month, and now I'm his assistant that doesn't even touch a pen and paper unless it's to remember an appointment. But otherwise, I'm no writer anymore.

I think I've taken things too far with us. Maybe it's not such a good idea for him to be coming over literally every single day...

Biting the inside of my cheek, I looked back at John, "I am not his girl. Nor will I ever be,"

John smiled, "Oh, well." He paused, and parked the car in a parking slot. "C'mon, we're here to make our troubles go," he placed his hand over his waist, offering his arm.

I shrugged, and gladly interlocked my arm with his as we entered the pub.

John, George, and Ringo sat on the bar, drinking their lives away. I chose not to drink at all tonight, no matter what John offers.

I couldn't help but think about Paul. Does he like me like that? If he does, it wouldn't explain anything that he's done...besides kiss me. We never talked about that after it happened. I ignored it, only because it was a Goodnight Kiss, not an I Love You Kiss. Well that's what I think.

Why would he even feel that way for me? I haven't been flirty and cutesy with him, or giving him any kind of reason to think I like him. And I've never really been that girl that all the guys drool over, either.

"Hello, love,"

I look up to see a tall, handsome man. He looked built, and his bright green eyes really brought out the dark hair colour he had. His hands balanced himself as he pulled a chair out to sit with me.

I sighed nervously, and tried to speak in full sentences, "Uh, hi," I brought my hand out, and waved.

He grinned, "What is a young pretty girl like you sitting and sulking alone in a big tough pub like this?"

"I came with my friends," I pointed the guys out, not feeling proud of what I see. George and John are laughing their arses off, and Ringo is downing his beer as if it was the last beer ever brewed.

He smirked, "Quite friends you got there. Leaving you alone at a vulnerable time," he paused and put his hand out, "I'm Shane,"

I didn't take his hand to shake, "Well Shane, I am not vulnerable. I can very well take care of myself, thank you," I took a sip of my lemonade, "I'm Amber,"