The Undercover Bad Boy

Chapter Twenty Five - Slay

Hey guys!

I'm SO SO SO sorry that this chapter took ages to upload (seriously, I missed all of you). Usually I try and upload every few days but for this past month my laptop's been really messed up (it wouldn't even load up my word document, let alone open internet explorer!). I'm actually typing this up on my phone :|

I hope you guys understand!

The good news is that - hopefully - by the end of this month, I should be getting a new laptop! *happy dance*

That will mean - again hopefully, I don't want to disappoint anyone :3 - more uploads for this story, maybe I'll ACTUALLY start uploading Project: Lemonade Stand and I'm considering starting up my own blog (would you be interested?)

Side note: I can't believe that The Undercover Bad Boy has almost hit 20K reads, thank you so much

Another thing to note is that I'm not sure if I'll have any wifi in this upcoming week *awkward, nervous laugh* I'll try throw together a chapter and publish it whenever I get the chance.

Thanks for being so supportive and sticking with me and the story!

On to the chapter >>>

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Chapter Twenty Five - Slay

A couple of hours later, when the sky had darkened and the snow fall had increased; I found myself lying on Zach's coffee coloured carpet forced to solve algebra expressions.

Apparently, with all that's happened, we hadn't been doing enough tutoring.

While I was labouring away at the maths work, Zach had switched on his laptop and began to stream his cooking shows online. He was still sitting on the bean bags from earlier this afternoon and hadn't moved a single inch since we entered the bedroom.

"Martha, girl, you slay those carrots," Zach started saying when I was deep in thought and right in the middle of figuring out a problem. I shot him an annoyed glare which - of course - he didn't pay any attention to.

"S - l - a - y. Slay," he continued obliviously.

I sighed and dropped my pencil onto the textbook with a slight thud. "Zach, what the actual-"

"You just don't understand," he cut me off dramatically as he clicked to watch the next episode of Master Chef. "It's addictive."

"No, I do not understand. I don't think I want to," I agreed pointedly. "But what I do know is that you have some strange obsession with cooking programmes." I reached over and placed a concerned hand on his shoulder.

Secretly, I was thankful that he distracting himself with the television shows rather than remembering the argument he had earlier this afternoon with his mother.

Zach pursed his lips and blinked at me, bringing my out of my thoughts once again. "It isn't some strange obsession, it's a healthy connection. A co - nec - tion." He clicked his fingers with each syllable to emphasis his point.

"Someone's acting sassy," I remarked, nudging him in the shoulder. This was followed by an amused smirk and a raised eyebrow.

He flicked a piece of hair out of his eyes. "I am the sass queen. Bow down to me peasant."

"Sass queen my-" I began to mutter underneath my breath.

Zach frowned and cut me off. "What were you going to say?"

I smiled innocently. "Nothing."

His eyebrows narrowed even more as he studied my face. "Should I be worried?"