He loves me.

I leaned my forehead against the wall saying he loves me, I smiled to myself saying he loves, I frowned at my reflection in the mirror saying he loves me, I screamed into my pillow and whispered he loves me. At that point, I concluded that Adrian saying I love you was both good and bad.

It was good because, well, I loved him and he finally loved me back.

It was bad because just when I thought I couldn't fall in love with him even harder, he had to say those three words that made me fall in love with him even harder! How was I going to forget those three words after summer was over and he was gone? how was I supposed to forget that Adrian Mackey loved me.

Jesus.

I didn't respond to him on the field, I just got up and said my Dad was calling me even though he wasn't. I went home and locked myself in my bedroom but I did hear him talking to my Dad downstairs, he didn't come up to knock on my door and I appreciated that. Sometimes I felt like he and I were starting to understand each other a little bit too much.

I rubbed my sweaty hands on the material of my mini Jean skirt, taking a deep breath before finally walking out of my bedroom.

I heard their voices in the kitchen as I descended down the stairs, I huffed and told myself that I was ready to face him while I neared the kitchen.

I walked in and no, nope, I was not ready to see that sight, I was not!

He was behind the counter, wearing an apron but without a shirt on, the tattoo of my name was showing, he had flour on his cheek and hands and his hair was all messy. Damnit.

I fell in love all over again.

He looked up and we made eye contact, I swallowed and shifted my gaze to my Dad who looked at me suspiciously, I looked at him the same way.

"Hello, daughter."

"Well hello there, father."

Adrian smiled to himself as he sliced something that looked like brownies. Damn that smile.

I took the seat next to my Dad on the counter and he looked at Adrian and then at me.

I knew he had questions about the tattoo.

"We have to talk, father daughter kind of talk." He whispered to me while looking at Adrian.

"Yes, I know." I sighed.

"Anyway." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked something, "I have to meet up with Lucy but to be continued." He got up from the stool and kissed my forehead. "I love you, daughter." He started walking towards the exit of the kitchen.

"I love you too father, and tell Lucy to just move in already." I rolled my eyes. He turned around to face me.

"You mean that?" He asked.

I was leaving for college soon so it was no big deal and Lucy made my Dad happy. I wanted my dad to be happy.

"Yeah." I nodded, he smiled and went out the exit.

Shit.

He went out the exit and now it was me and him.

I didn't meet his eyes, I refused to meet his eyes but even so I felt his eyes on me and his presence in the room made it seem small. I shifted in my seat and scratched the back of my neck even though it wasn't itching.

"Your Dad taught me how to bake." He broke the awkward silence.

"Yeah?" I looked down at the brownies and never at him.

"Yeah." He picked up a brownie and started walking around the bar.

Ah shit.

He stood in front of me and extended it to my lips, I looked at it, hesitating.

I opened my mouth and took a bite, my lips brushed his fingers. Deja Vu. I chewed slowly without looking up at him, he held my chin and tilted my head up. His gaze searched my face with those undeniable hooded eyes.

He ate the other half while looking at me. I ended up feeling suffocated under his gaze.

What was this guy doing to me.

He sat down next to me and stared, sometimes I felt like he was studying me with that stare, like I was a book.

"So you love me?" I asked.

"Seems like it." He shrugged, like it was not a big deal.

"Why?"

"Why do I love you?"

"You literally came out of nowhere and said that to me, what made you say it?" I questioned.

He sighed, "So in drama class, some idiot asked Mr Patterson how most actors pull off those intimate scenes without falling in love with each other. Mr Patterson had to explain to him and the discussion went as far as him explaining the difference between love and lust, he didn't finish explaining because the period ended but I just felt like I had to know so I stayed behind and I asked him a few questions." He shrugged.

I wasn't satisfied with that answer.

"What questions?"

He smiled at me amusingly, "I asked him how one can know if they're in love. He said falling in love with someone is like falling in love with a song, you play that song again and again and again-"

"But then you get tired of the song and move on to the next." I pointed out.

"Exactly, but then one day, you'll play that song again and fall in love with it all over again which means that you never really stopped loving that song." He said.

I wondered if that was going to be Adrian and I some day, I wondered if we were going to fall in love with other people and then fall in love with each other all over again.

"What if you delete the song because it doesn't make sense to you anymore?" I asked.

"He said that there are people in our lives who come and go, some we forget, some we can never dare forget. He said, life is short and time doesn't wait for anyone so if I tell myself that I don't love you today then I'll regret it tomorrow and for the rest of my life."

"So you told me you love me because you don't want to regret it tomorrow?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm the smart one in this relationship." He muttered while moving his stool and scooting closer to me. He reached for my hand and placed it on his chest, I could feel how fast his heart was racing. "It happens every time you're near me, dumb idiot." He said, letting my hand fall to my lap, I smiled.

"Why are you shirtless?" I finally asked.

"I bumped into your Dad and he spilled scrambled eggs all over me." He said, getting off the seat and going around the counter.

"You could have just came up and asked for a shirt." I admired the syringe tattoo on his back.

"I thought you needed space." He said what I already knew.

"Did he ask about the tattoo?"

"He didn't but I have a feeling he's going to ask you about it." He eyed the mess on the counter.

"Right." I huffed.

"So uh, prom?" He leaned his hands on the counter and looked at me.

I scoffed.

Classic Adrian.

"You know, romantic gentlemen make these big grand gestures like flying out of an airplane and screaming "will you go to prom with me?" Others write a whole prom song and-"

"You do realize that they do that shit to get laid, right?" He grinned.

"No, they do it to be romantic gentlemen." I pointed out.

He chuckled, looking elsewhere.

"Emily?" He looked at me.

"What?" I slouched back on the seat and folded my arms over my chest.

"Do I look like a romantic gentleman to you?" He asked.

I stared at him for a minute.

"No but you can try." I said.

"Okay then, I'll do whatever you want me to do, accept singing or dancing or anything that can scar my ego." He scowled his face at the last part. I giggled.

"Act." I said.

"Act?" He raised his brows at me.

"Yeah, I've never seen you acting and I hear that you're good so act for me." I shrugged, his lips stretched into a smile.

"Good boy or bad boy?" He asked me as he took the apron off and placed it on the counter. I stared at his chest.

"What?" I was still staring.

"Good boy or bad boy?" He repeated, I looked up at him again.

"Uhm, bad boy?" I responded unsurely.

He shook his head at me before turning around and opening the cabinet and looked for something, he opened the next cabinet and I rolled my eyes at him for not asking me what he was looking for.

"What are you-"

"Behold." He held the small pointy stick in the air, I giggled.

"A toothpick?"

"My bad boy intro." He responded, looking at the stick.

Okay. I immediately got comfortable and excited.

"Action?" He pointed at me.

"Action." I pointed at him.

He ruffled his hair and made it messier then he stroked through while he placed the toothpick between his lips, looking at me. He looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time and it gave me shivers all over.

He drummed his fingers on the counter as he walked around it towards me, he stood in front of me and let his hand out like he wanted me to shake it.

"Hey, love, what's your name?" He said in a British accent.

I immediately busted out laughing so hard my ribs hurt.

He didn't laugh with me, he just smiled at me laughing while he was still standing there, watching me laugh with his hand waiting for me to shake it.

I cleared my throat and apologized for laughing, he didn't respond.

"Emily." I shook his hand, smiling.

"Emily." He whispered, his eyes falling to my body while he twirled the toothpick on the corner of his lips. "Nice to meet you, Emily, I'm Patrick." His accent was beyond good.

"Patrick, I have a boyfriend."

"C'mon love, forget about him, you and I can go back to my flat, get drunk, fall in love and maybe I can even take you to my high school prom?" His gaze lingered on my chest.

Oh he was good.

"Wow." I clapped my hands, he removed the toothpick and bowed his head dramatically.

"Hollywood is not ready, I feel like I should give you somewhere to sign or something."

"Well, technically I already signed somewhere."

I smiled and he smiled back.

Silence.

We stared at each other, he took a few steps back and looked at me from head to toe and then back up, his jaw tightened and he ran a hand on the side of his face.

"Emily?" It came out as a whisper.

"Adrian." I whispered back.

"There's too much of you in my heart." His hand gripped the back of his neck, the words traveled through my brain and settled deep in my core. I felt them.

And all I wanted to do was go back in time and shake John Keats hand for the existence of that statement.

"Show me." I had no idea why I said that but I was glad I said it cause as soon as the words escaped my lips he took three long strides towards me and crashed his lips on mine, taking my breath away and making my heart jerk, his lips closed around my lower lip and he kissed me passionately, I kissed him back with the same desire and we deepened the kiss, he sucked on my tongue as he stood between my legs. He sneaked hand underneath my skirt, slowly, teasingly, he tugged on my underwear.

I breathed into his mouth, he released a very muscular irritated groan as he gripped his hand in my hair then he retrieved. stepping away from me and running a hand through his hair.

"Fucking hell, You're not going to drive me crazy, Emily Bennett."

I smiled because I knew, I knew he was trying to resist falling in love with me every day, I couldn't help but feel good about the fact that I was the one making him react that way, I was the one he was in love with, me, Emily Bennett, not Marianne or Jennifer or Lana. Me.

"Prom?" He asked, pointing at me.

"Prom." I responded.