Crooked (boyxboy)

17: Together

"Stop laughing," I complain. "It's not funny, okay? It scared the shit out of me."

"Okay, I'm sorry," Whittney says, snorting once more before he forces a straight face. "What a sick bastard."

"Well it's not like he's some old, gross guy." I have to give Andrew Griffin credit where credit is due. He's a good-looking guy, as much as I don't want to admit it. "He's only in his mid-thirties."

"Oh. Yeah, that makes it better." He rolls his eyes and an angry huff follows.

My lips lift at the corners. "You're jealous."

"W-what?" His eyes widen, cheeks turning an unnatural shade of red. "No, I'm not!"

"Your poker face needs a lot of work," I tease.

He laughs before punching me lightly on the arm. "Okay, fine. But can you blame me? I've apparently got a lot of competition."

Does this mean he thinks of himself as a competitor? Is this really happening? He's sober right now, and yet, he's telling me all of this.

"I told you I'd always choose you, though. Didn't I?" I lift my hand to stroke his cheek and my spirits soar when he lets me.

Whittney closes his eyes, a smile tugging lightly at his lips, and it looks so damn good on him. "You did say that."

His hand reaches up to grab mine and holds it in his lap as his thumb brushes against my skin. There's a different fire spreading over me than with Andrew earlier. The right, perfect kind of fire that made my stomach fill with heated passion.

"Let's get out of here," he says suddenly.

"Okay. Where do you wanna go?"

"I was thinking a road trip." His smile grows, reaching his eyes for once when he squeezes my hand. "I want to go somewhere no one knows us. Where we won't be noticed. Where we can be...us."

I eye him suspiciously, but I can't hide my grin. "Is this you asking me out on a date?"

When he tenses up, I fear I've taken it a step too far, but his eyes are still filled with warmth.

"Yes." He speaks slowly, as if he's not sure this is the answer he should be giving.

"Where we going?"

Twenty minutes later, my car is filled with snacks for on the road and a sense of adventure. I had to lie to my mom, saying I would be staying over at Whittney's. As much as I hate lying to her, there's no way she would have let me drive us to New York City on my own.

We pass the time on our two and a half hour car ride by coming up with funny abbreviations for license plates, discussing video games, and arguing over directions. Whittney had been very adamant about going to a specific motel and when we pull up into the parking lot, it's an utter mystery to me why it had to be this one. It doesn't look like anything special and he's never been here before so it's not like there are any emotional ties to the place.

I decide to roll with it, whatever the reason.

After we split the money for the room, we run up the stairs to room nine. Someone must have thought they were a comedian, because a subtle 6 is written in front of the number in sharpie. Whittney, of course, laughs his ass off while I just roll my eyes.

Before we are even completely behind closed doors, Whittney's lips already collide with mine. The surprise makes me drop the key and he pushes me further into the room, shutting the door with his foot. I fall backward when I lose my balance after my back legs bump into the bed. Whittney rolls onto his back in laughter next to me and it's refreshing to finally hear him laugh again. It's been a long time since he's sounded the least bit happy.