Undercover Girlfriend (DISCONTINUED)

Chapter Four

Chapter Title: The Kiss of a Damned

When I think of my first kiss, I saw a young fifteen year old spy kissing a twenty year old prince, as distraction. Now when I planned my second kiss with Patrick, I was thinking...something more. I never thought it would be soo -unusual.

My leg was shaking as I sat down the toilet, trying to contact Lesley for some help. The ringing was so long, I wanted to throw it out of the window.

God what the heck is she taking so long to answer!

"Uh Gail? Are you okay there?" Patrick's voice called out. He was growing suspicious thanks to my lovely best friend

"Uh yeah" I responded "Allergic to chives that's all"

One: I hated chives. Two: was their chives in my pizza? But the way he said "Ah" gave me the idea that he understands.

The ringing stopped. A frustrated groan emerged from my mouth. She is not doing well as a Tracker, she should be happy that she has that job that doesn't involve boys, though, I think she'd prefer it than sitting down in a cubicle, typing down something on the computer.

I bit the side of my lower lip as I sat in the toilet, thinking hard. Nolan? Isn't it weird calling a boy-friend about boy troubles? Nah I'll just call him. My finger furiously tapped on his Spy number: 242613. The ringing didn't last long, at least I can count on him, the dude dated a bunch of times of course he can help with my dilemma.

The problem of the kiss wasn't the fact that I kinda have a bad breath for stuffing my mouth with onions and sour cream nachos. It was...weird.

Rewind.

I stepped out of the car holding my two pizzas in one hand for my other hand held the key. Patrick stared at the house as he walked towards me holding my shopping bags.

"You live here alone?" He asked

"No my parents work" I blurted as I opened the door.

"On Sunday?" He asked, again. Stupidity leaked, but then again I've seen New Yorkers work on a Sunday before.

"Yes, they are in New York to um uh business meeting, my dad has a promotion going on and what not" I easily answered as I turned the lights on.i turned my direction to the kitchen to put my pizza on the fridge. I snatched a can of beer then walked to the living room where Patrick was. The can flew across the room as he caught it with his left hand, seeing he used his right hand to settle the shopping bags on the center table "You drink beer right?"

"Who doesn't?" He smirk which I returned. God his smirk makes me soft. Pretty sure it's normal. Not weird. Okay, I guess a little strange.

He was busy, or keeping himself busy, by looking at the shelves I didn't know about at the side of the living room. Not that I could care less what he was doing, I - in all honesty, was checking him out. It's not in perverted way, just, girl hormones, should fit the explanation. My eyes wandered around his arms, he wasn't that muscular but enough to get him a sport title. That sort of explains the way he caught the can of beer so easily, he must play football. If he does, I blame Lesley for missing out the information.

That didn't stop there, my gaze moved upward to his face. Attractive was all I could say. Hottie was an understatement but attractive sounds classy. He had this lips that were perfectly designed- if that's even possible, to make a perfect curve for a smile or a smirk. The thought made me bit my lip softly.

I'm beginning to flash images of Abigail and Patrick making out. And I liked the view as Desiree.

Then my eyes stopped at his stained shirt. That slapped me mentally from my trance.