Breaking The Bad Boy (Completed)

Chapter 31: I'm Drunk, He's Sober

[A/N: Song for the chapter:
- Sam Smith // Stay With Me
- Zedd ft. Hayley Williams // Stay The Night]

"What did the slow tomato say to the fast tomato?" Tyler asked, moving his fingers along the steering wheel as we took the final left that led to his driveway.

I shook my head, searching my mind for an answer even though I knew it was going to be as dumb and as simple as the previous, dozen jokes he had told me since I had called him to pick me up.

Tyler stole a glance at me, grinning a devious smile that revealed his perfect set of teeth. I marvelled at his smile, too drunk to remember that it was rude to stare. I wish he'd smile like that more often. It looked remarkably good on him, not that he wasn't remarkably good looking anyway.

"Tell me," I giggled when his eyes shone in the pale moonlight that bathed his car, allowing me to see his features clearly.

He paused for a few seconds, building up the tension as he stopped the car at the iron gates that surrounded his house. Using his key fob, he leaned out of the window and held it over the scanner until the pale green light flickered, giving us the go-ahead to keep driving.

"Tell me Tyler!" I clapped my hands eagerly, rubbing them together to fight off a chill that was creeping up my spine.

I wasn't sure if the chill was because he was gazing at me with a soft smile or because his window was still wound down, letting the icy cold wind to chase away all the warmth inside the car.

"What did the slow tomato say to the fast tomato?" I repeated his joke, reminding him that I was waiting for an answer. "Tyler! Come on, you're killing me here."

"That's the point," His smile stretched wider until I huffed in defeat and leaned back, sinking deeper into the leather seats.

"Ha ha!" I drawled sarcastically, crossing my arms crossed over my chest. "Just tell me the damn joke before I claw your face!"

"Okay, okay, okay," Tyler laughed, parking the car and turning off the engine. "The slow tomato said to the fast tomato...Go ahead I'll catch up!"

When you're drunk, everything in the world is hilarious, but when Tyler Miller cracks a joke that actually makes sense, it's side-splitting. I doubled over, giggling hysterically as he leaned over me and unbuckled my seatbelt. His fingers brushed against the strip of skin that my dress revealed along my thigh.

I shuddered.

"Are you cold?" Tyler asked, pausing to look at me, leaving his fingertips on my inner thigh.

I wanted to tell him to take his hands off me, but instead I thought it would be less blunt to ask him to close his window.

"You could get your hands off me," I giggled, clamping a hand over my mouth before letting loose another giggle. Damn me and my motormouth. "They're so cold and my hooha doesn't like cold fingers if you get what I mean. Fingers are cool, but yours are ice cold."

Tyler's eyes widened before they trailed along my dress. The hemline was just about covering my ass after hitching up when I sat down and his fingers curled around my inner thigh, so close to the space between my legs that I was starting to feel hot and bothered.

Two pink spots lingered on his cheeks for a few seconds as he quickly clicked open my seat belt and leaned back. He clenched his hand and stuffed it into his pocket before cracking a sheepish smile.

"I don't think I've ever seen you this drunk Ash."

The weight of his gaze made my insides feel warm and bubby and floaty, and I wondered for a moment why he rarely used my nickname. It sounded good to hear him call me that. It made me feel like Taylor was still alive and well.