A single bet. Two people. And one month of free ice-cream.
Unspoken promises, heated gazes, and an inexplicable lust for each other. Will Tyler and Brandon confess their true feelings? Or will their playful banter and awkward moments dissolve into n...
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There was a new unwritten rule in my life. Plans never worked. Never. If I decided to do something or say something or just plain old exist, things went wrong. Horribly wrong. And this was quite a new predicament for someone who was just swimming, studying, and sleeping for the past eighteen years of his life.
It was hard to remember a time where there were no fights or flirting, make-outs or misunderstandings, tears or thrills. That version of me seemed to be living in a different century altogether. How was it possible that one person could change my life that much? From an ordinary mundane existence, it was as if I was thrown into the emotional rollercoaster of life without a survival guide.
The long-awaited summer trip was here, but it wasn't panning out the way I wanted it to. It was supposed to be cute and hot and fun and romantic...and perfect. We were supposed to have a beach picnic, sneak out to this cute cafe in some corner of the city, ride the Ferris wheel, tour the local market, and eat a buck load of ice-cream. Heck, even a bride wouldn't have done this much planning!
Yet, here I was, after already ruining our chances, sulking in my room.
How was I supposed to cope up with a girlfriend that was pimping me out with my best friend for a talent show? Things couldn't get any worse today.
"I love it when you call me señorita!" Seth, the aforementioned best-friend, hummed and swayed his hips. I almost threw up as I looked at him. There was only a small towel wrapped around his waist...and it was dangerously loose as he danced. He croaked out in a throaty voice, "I wish I could pretend I didn't need ya."
That thing not getting any worse part? Yep, definitely spoke too soon.
"But every touch is ooh la la la," he continued to sing and the towel slipped an inch from his waist.
Not wanting to be accidentally flashed by him, and suffer from nightmares for the rest of my trip, I quickly looked away. Hopefully, some miraculous pull would keep his towel on his waist for the time being.
With nothing else to do, I picked up my phone and watched a random football match from the last season. Before Messi could score the first goal, there was a knock on the door. I paused the video and frowned. Seth was busy styling his hair in front of the mirror, still in the precarious towel, when I asked, "Did you call for room service?"
Seth switched off the blow-dryer and walked over to the door. He looked through the peephole and chuckled. "Yup. It's an overnight service. Of sorts." He turned to wink at me.
Huh? I was thoroughly confused. What overnight service? What was he planning? Would I...would I survive the night?
Before I could overthink, Rebecca stepped into the room. She was carrying a backpack with her. A sudden foreboding settled in my stomach. She kept her backpack down on the floor and swiped her eyes over the room. I followed her gaze. If I knew she was going to show up here, I might have cleaned up the mess. But now that it reached this point, I just pretended that our luggage wasn't strewn around the place like we threw an overnight frat party in the span of the last three hours.
