Dripped In Jealousy

French and Kisses

He pulled up in front of a huge black gate with high security. The gate opened automatically, and Chase drove in front of his...well, mansion. But as much as I hate to admit it, it was even bigger and better than the one dad bought. All because Chase's dad was a billionaire. The walls were light brown, and they were really tall. And he had plenty other expensive cars in his huge garage.

He stopped his car, and came around to my side to open the door, but I remained seated. "Isn't this your house?"

"Yeah," he furrowed his perfect brows.

"Why am I here of all places?" I pressed.

"See, your the same one who said that you don't like eyes, and then again, you were going to practice for French, correct?" he smirked.

"Yeah, but-"

"Then this is the right place for both of that. Besides, it's extra comfortable and classy at the same time. You won't regret visiting this place, trust me," he held out his hand, and I hesitated, before grabbing it and letting him close the door.

We walked for a minute or two to get to the front door, and he pulled his keys out of his pocket.

Once the door opened, we stepped inside. "Take off your shoes," he ordered, and I obeyed. I don't wanna mess up such a clean and beautiful house. "Are you hungry?" he asked, climbing the stairs. "Definitely," I rubbed my stomach. "I could eat a horse."

He chuckled, opening a door to what I guessed was his room. I watched as he pressed a buzzer on his red wall, and almost immediately, I heard people scrambling around downstairs. When I looked, I realized they're his maids.

Huh.

"I have different buzzers set for the different things I need. That was the food buzzer," he explained.

"Oohh," I said, observing the features of his room.

His furniture was black, which looked really nice against the red walls. The room was quite spacious, and his bed looked ultra comfy.

I ran straight for it, face planting into the mattress.

It's so fricking soft!

I felt the bed dip next to me, before I felt his hand stroking my head, his fingers effortlessly running through my hair. I sat up, looking at him in the eye. "You're bed feels soft," I laughed.

"You're hair feels soft," he said, still stroking.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. "Come in," Chase said, and the door opened, revealing a tray full of food. Soda, pizza, hotdogs, chips, popcorn, champagne, you name it!

I watched as the maid pushed the tray of food in the room, nodding at Chase. "Thank you," he smirked.

In a few moments, she left, closing the door behind her.

"Well, how about a movie? Fifty Shades Of Grey, perhaps?" he jumped into his couch, picking up the remote and some popcorn.

"Uh uh," I snatched back the remote from him. "I only have three hours before I leave, and you said you'd help me with French."

"Oh come on, just one show," he begged, trying to make puppy eyes, which he failed miserably by the way.

I pointed to his bed, "French first, TV after."

He groaned, getting off the couch. "You sound like my mom."

"You sound like a toddler," I retorted.

We sat next to each other on the bed, and I took out my French textbook. "D'accord. Commençons-nous. (Ok. Let's begin)."

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