Unexpected

Chapter 7

"You can go back to reading now, but I'd advise you to get ready for tonight. Parties at half 8 till morning, so look nice!" He smiles.

I pout," I want to read though!" I complain.

"Do what you want then sweetie, just be ready!" He gives me his award winning smile and walks of towards the house. it's official, I love Owen, he's helped me a lot over the past hour! I never thought I'd have anyone to talk to apart from my mum.

I look down at the path and notice my book is missing. What the hell? Where could it be?

Then I remember, Owen has a friend staying over. If he's lost my page so help him I will kill the stranger.

I open the door warily and head for the living room everything is wooden, or brown, wooden walls and floor, wooden tables, wooden work tops, the only thing that is brown is the soft furniture, I walk into the living room, then I see him. Chocolate hair hoarded with curls, a face that's chiseled to perfection. He's looking at my book with the most concentrated face I've even seen, his lips are plump even though they are in a tight line, his eyebrows are knitted. I could just sit and marvel at him all day without him noticing but that would be creepy so I cough. his tanned skin lightens when he looks up from the book. He looks at me a little shocked. His jogging bottoms are hanging loose around his waist and I can see his boxers underneath his tight white vest top, he is the definition of perfect.

"Um is that my book?" I ask, he looks at me and smiles

"Well it was lying outside, thought it was from a secret admirer, hoping she was as ugly as the film" what did he mean by that? What was that? An Australian voice I hear? Did I just hear an Australian voice? He looks down at the book again.

"I... Am.. Number... Four.. More like, I should not be made into a film because it's not even half as good as the book and we should burn all copies of it because even satan was upset at how bad it was" it is an Australian voice. Oh my god. I'm in love.

"Well that's a mouthful, I prefer I Am Number Four if I'm honest" I add, he smirks.

"Your funny for a cleaner, d'you know that?" A cleaner? What? I eye him up suspiciously.

"I'm not a cleaner, I live here. Oh wait, you probably won't know. I'm the boys stepsister, their dad and my mum are getting married, having a child and now I've had to move in, I've only been here for a few days though" I smile at him, no sarcastic comments for the hot boy.

"Well nice to meet you...?" he trails off, not knowing my name but still has his hand out.

"Stacey, but you can call me Stace, most people do, and you are?" I ask.

"Aidan, and I like Stace, but I like my own nicknames better.. hmm, you can be" he looks at me tapping his middle finger of his chin"

"I got it!" He smiles, he has dimples and he's Australian, if I could get a closer look id look at his eyes, if they are blue, it would be official, I'd be in love.

"Bella" he smiles at me, and stands up and hands me my book.

"Bella?" I ask confused.

"Yeah, Bella means beautiful in Italian but it may change you also look like a 'smiles' or 'sweetheart' I also think 'pumpkin' could fit as well" he smiles

"You try that with all the girls?" I ask blushing a little, damn it.

He smiles back at me.

"Only the real Bella's" he winks and walks back to his seat.

"Oh I'm honoured" I tease. "Well I was going to read here but I though I'd be alone, I'll just go get ready" I smile at him and make my way towards the exit.

"No, it's ok!" He grabs my hand and I can feel my heart flutter. "I'm going to be cooking anyway and I enjoy company" he smiles, dimples showing and still not letting go of my hand.

I then awkwardly drop mine and break away from our long stare, cheeks flushed I nod my head in agreement which makes him beam a smile, I take a seat and he heads from the kitchen.

"I heard that Owen upset you" he shouts from the kitchen.

"Yeah at lunch he did but it's ok now" I say trying to sound as sweet as I can so he didn't know I was hurt. Imagine Owen hadn't have stopped me and I would have walked in here crying to a hot Australian stranger.

"Well that's good it's sorted, you looked upset" I look up from my book worried.

"You seen us?" I ask

"Yeah, you were talking right outside my bedroom window"

"Oh ok"

"This lunch is going to be amazing" he simply states, changing the subject. "are you allergic to anything?" he asks.

"Plasters" I simply state not noticing that he may be implying that he's making me food.

"God damn it, I was going to serve a sandwich with a side of plasters for you, you've ruined it now" I let out a small giggle.

"It's terrible I never get the good foods! But you don't have to make anything for me you know"

"I know I don't, but I want to " he says with two plates in his hands, handing me one and sitting down with the other, he then takes two forks out his pocket and slides one towards me.

"You made pasta in that small conversation?" I question.

On the plate there is a three layered sandwich with chicken and salad on it, with coleslaw on top, at the side there is a small amount of tomato pasta with bacon and chicken bits through it, then there was a small tossed salad at the corner with a sauce that I can't quite name. the plate is over flowing but it looks delicious.

"I didn't make it when you were talking to me, I made it when you were talking to Owen, i'm a cooker" he says that just as I take my first bite, the pasta with the salad just makes an explosion of tastebuds in my mouth, I let out a soft groan with how tasty it is.

"That has got to be the tastiest thing I have ever put in my mouth" he smiles all proud of himself.

"Wait till you try my chocolate mousse, you'll probably cry with how amazing it is" I laugh

"Toot toot"

"Hey! I like blowing my own trumpet!" I only smile this time as my mouth is full on pasta.

Save to say I scoff the pasta and the salad and the sandwich whilst watching sponge bob square pants, since it was the only thing we could decide on.

The mousse really did make me want to cry it was that tasty and I was already quite emotional.

"So do you want to be my personal chef?" I ask.

"Anything for you pumpkin" he smiles. Blushing. BLUshing. BLUSHING. "So tell me more about you" he asks and sits himself so he's facing me.

"Age, hobbies? Single? School? What you want to be in life?"

"16, running, singing, reading and drama, yes! Saint Mary's high school, um, something with loads of money so I can work for myself and if all else fails open a bakery and make cakes for all dem bitches" I laugh realised I just said that and not having a clue why.

"Yourself?"

"18, reading, football, rugby, swimming, running, tennis and boxing I also like basketball from time to time. I can also play the guitar, that's how I get all dem bitches and I am single" he then winks at me, " and I'm studying architecture, but I want to be a footballer, that's also a chef and travels the world to be a photographer" I laugh

"Not quite sure then?" I laugh, he chucked too.

"Nope, no point I'm only 18, don't want to decide my life away this early"

"You're Australian, stick around the UK and you'll get far" I say

"What? Why?" He asks a little confused.

"You're accent and well you could be a male model"

"Aaaaand now your my favourite person from the UK ever!" He smiles, stand up and takes my plate of my lap, takes them out to the kitchen, the smile never escaping from my face.

I like Aidan, a lot.