The Devil Wears Girl Jeans [BEING EDITED]

The Devil Wears Girl Jeans (Chapter 20)

One thing I learned while walking home with Halden, was that boy logic was ridiculous. It was absolutely pouring rain outside, and Halden had stuffed his coat into his backpack so that it wouldn't get wet. In his mind, that made perfect sense.

By the time we'd reached my house, however, water was flowing down his goosebump covered skin like a river, and I once again cursed Tristan for disappearing off the face of the earth. As unpleasant and awkward as a car ride with both of them would've been, at least we would've been dry.

"Stand here while I get you a towel, and don't move." I warned him, before heading upstairs to the bathroom. For Haldens benefit, I grabbed my sister's Barbie towel, along with a pair of sweatpants and one of Tristan's t-shirts that he'd left here over the summer. I was pretty sure I owned more of Tristan's stuff than he did, and I had absolutely zero intention of ever giving any of it back.

When I returned downstairs, Halden was lying on my couch, watching iCarly in his boxers. I wasn't exactly sure which part of "don't move" he wasn't grasping, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't completely okay with it.

"Uh. Here. Clothes." I mumbled, throwing the pile of fabric at him so that it hit him square in the face, before hurrying off to the kitchen. My cooking skills were less than perfect, but I figured making hot chocolate was a decent distraction from the nearly naked guy sitting on my couch.

"Aww, Hartley has a lady-boner." he cooed from the living room, and I felt my face redden as I dumped two massive spoonfuls of chocolate powder into each of our mugs.

"Not for you I don't," I muttered just loud enough for him to hear, picking up the cups and shuffling into the living room trying my best not to spill anything. Halden was still on the couch, wrapped in one of our blankets, but considering the clothes were nowhere to be seen, I assumed he was wearing them. At least, I hoped he was.

I set the cups down on the table before collapsing onto the side of the couch farthest from Halden, and he shot me a lopsided grin. It was breathtaking, but made me nervous.

"What?"

"Why'd you sit so far away?"

"I don't want to catch your cooties."

"Wuss!" he exclaimed, lunging forward and locking his arms around my waist. I thrashed half heartedly as he dragged me onto his lap, surprised by how little effort it took him.

"You have the body of a 12 year old girl, how are you so strong?" I panted, and he stuck his tongue out at me. That was a total lie, but his ego needed to be deflated, stepped on, and set on fire. Luckily, killing people's self esteem was what I did best.

"I guess your ugly black haired friend never mentioned that I'm on his hockey team, eh?"

"No, Dallas never said anything about you." I informed him, only slightly offended. Only I was allowed to insult Dallas, and it was one of my favourite hobbies. Like knitting, or stamp collecting, except it had the potential to destroy any sense of self-worth that he had left, turning him into a bitter middle-aged old man who would never be able to find love.

"Oh," was all he said, pulling part of his blanket over me. I hated sitting on guys laps, the main reason being that I was afraid I'd either end up crushing them, or sacking them, neither of which was particularly enjoyable for anyone involved. After a while though, I began to relax, lulled into drowsiness by his steady heart beat and his surprisingly strong embrace. I'd already seen this episode of iCarly, which gave me more time concentrate on Halden and just enjoy the first somewhat romantic moment I'd had with a guy since elementary school.

His fingers stroked my hair rhythmically as we lay on the couch, both of us too deep in thought to pay attention to the TV. His fingers moved down to trace my jawline absentmindedly, and I felt my heartbeat speed up.