I continue to eat my food whilst he continues to whine and groan impatiently. At first I found it amusing but now its just getting on my nerves.

"Will you shut up for two seconds" I finally snap after what feels like an hour of his short comments and quiet mumbling.

He pretends to think about it by rubbing his imaginary beard for a second before responding, "mmmmm, no" he says sassily.

I roll my eyes and take a sip of my water as he starts giggling to himself.

"Hey how much did coach end up giving you?" He asks leaning over a bit with his eyebrow cocked up mischievously.

"30 why?" I question, giving him a stern look.

"Great you have enough!" he exclaims happily and gets up from the booth.

"What, where the hell are you going?" I say confused as he is already crossing the restaurant and stepping towards the bar. He cannot be serious right now. I check the menu to see how much my meal was and it was only 15$. So what he is just gonna buy himself a drink with the money coach gave me without asking? What a spoiled brat.

I finish up eating and turn around to see George seated at one of the bar stools waiting impatiently for the bartender to take his order. His feet are swaying back in forth and he has his head placed on the palm of his hand. The bartender finally makes eye contact with him and George waves him over.

They talk for a bit and I see him ask for his ID, which I know George has a fake. He pulls it out and the bartender accepts it, going back to make his drink.

I sigh annoyed that it is now George the one making me wait around. The waiter comes by the table and I hand him the money, thanking him for his service. I would have tipped him more but now I have to conserve my money because this idiot decided he was gonna order a drink. What was even the point of that? Why does he even need a singular drink right now? Just to spike me?

As I receive my change I pocket it and head towards the bar to where George is sitting. He is sitting there eyeing the bartender like he is making sure he is making his drink perfectly.

I take a seat beside him and he doesn't even turn to look at me.

"I'm done eating, lets go" I demand.

He keeps his eyes cast forward and answers smugly, "I had to wait for you so its your turn to wait for me" he quips back and extends his hand, "oh also I need the money now thanks" he gestures for me to hand it over with his open palm.

I reluctantly place the money in his hand, knowing I would rather not cause a scene in front of everyone. "Fuck you" I mumble irritated, to which makes him smirk. I could have used that money for something else but of course he just had to order a drink.

The bartender comes back with his drink in hand, it looks like a strawberry daiquiri. He gives George a bright smile and places a little sombrero in his drink. "Here you go gorgeous, that will be 5.99$" he winks and slides the drink across the counter towards him. George bats his eyelashes like he's flirting and places the money in his hand, letting it linger for longer than it should have.

Gorgeous? What the fuck who does he think he is. Does he not realize I am sitting right here. I choose not to say anything, knowing it isn't my place and George can flirt with whoever he wants, but its hard to sit here and watch the way this man is looking at him. I feel like I am biting my tongue hard enough to draw blood at this point.

"Keep the change" George says and finally pulls his hand away. Um excuse me but who said he could just 'keep the change'. He's so rude, using my money and then just giving the rest away.

"Thanks, oh and I'll get you a napkin!" He hurries to the back and George takes a sip out of his drink. "mmm" he says obviously enjoying it.

"Why did you give him the change idiot, that was my money!" I whisper-yell making sure he doesn't hear me from behind the counter.

He shrugs and looks at me for the first time since I have sat here, "first of all it isn't even your money, its coach's. And second of all he's cute so why not" he wiggles his eyebrows teasingly. I know what he's doing. This guy isn't even that cute so I don't know what he is talking about.

I shake my head and rub my eyes, trying to play off the fact that this has no effect on me. Why should it? We aren't together and its not like this is Braden, so why should I care what he is doing with his life? He can flirt with whoever he wants.

The unimpressive bartender comes back with a napkin for George and folds it, "don't lose it" he winks once again and walks off to help other customers. George turns a bright pink and opens the napkin.

Inside is written his number.

I clench my hand trying not to react.

George pulls out his phone and goes to put the contact in but I lose all control and grab the napkin out of his hand. "Give me that, you aren't putting his number in your phone" I say as I rip the paper in half.

"Hey what the fuck is your problem?!" He says angrily trying to grab at the paper but I continue to rip it into smaller pieces so he wouldn't be able to piece it back together.

"You don't even know him George" I say annoyed and throw the pieces on the bar floor.

"Oh and you do?" He questions finally giving up on trying to redeem the number.

"I know guys intentions with a pretty boy like you"

"Please, you don't know fuck all Clay" he rolls his eyes and takes a sip out of his drink. I remain silent so he chooses to continue. "Why? Is it because they are the same intentions as yourself" he continues and I can tell he is angry, or maybe just searching for answers he's been longing to receive.

"You think too highly of yourself George" I utter defensively.

"Not denying I see" he quirks an eyebrow and smirks, loving the fact he thinks he has the upper hand.

"Watch it Davidson" I warn and flash him a look that lets him know he is testing my limits.

He hums and sips his drink once again.

We sit in silence until he finally finishes the rest of his drink. He waits for the bartender to come back and pick up his empty glass, thanking him for his service.

"What are you doing tonight?" He asks with very obvious intent behind his words but George seems oblivious to it.

I try and bite back a response, not wanting to interfere with the conversation. I start watching the tv that is playing golf of all sports, and pretend I am interested in that, but as much as I am keeping my eyes glued to the tv I am paying full attention to the conversation beside me.

"I don't really have any plans, what 'bout you?" George responds keeping the conversation alive.

"Well my shift ends in an hour, so maybe I can take you out since you aren't busy?" He suggests, wiping the spotless counter down to look busy even though it is already clean enough.

"I don't think that would be a good idea" the words fall off my tongue instinctively before I can stop myself.

"And why's that?" He asks intrigued, turning to face me for the first time this whole evening, finally acknowledging my presence.

"Because he's my boyfriend" I say putting my arm around George's shoulders possessively.

I can feel George stiffen underneath me, he loves attention and I know this, but he is also someone who tends to avoid awkward encounters and situations. So I know he is uncomfortable right now with the stiffness in the air.

He flashes him an apologetic smile when the bartender turns to look at him. "Is this true?" He asks disbelief seeping through his words. I guess he has a right to be confused, George willingly took his number and continued to entertain him, so randomly having a boyfriend could catch him off guard.

It surprises me when George nods and apologies to him. The bartender doesn't fight him on it which I appreciate and gets waved over by another customer. I guess George wasn't actually interested in him and was just trying to get a reaction out of me.

His stupid plan worked.

"Get your arm off me dick" he says pushing me off of him, his cute innocent act fading when the bartender was out of sight.

I chuckle lowly, "why are you mad? You could have just said no and went out with him" I give him a knowing glare.

"Yeah well I didn't wanna further embarrass you if I had flat out rejected you." He plays it off and gets up from where he is sitting.

"Where are you going?" I ask.

"Home, come on I'm tired of this place" he states, grabbing his phone and wallet before walking out of the restaurant, not even waiting for me to gather my things. Asshole.

I grab my keys and walk out behind him, unlocking the car and seeing him leaning there waiting, seemingly texting someone.

"Get in the car boyfriend" I joke hoping to get a reaction out of him.

He pockets his phone and gets in, "I'm not your boyfriend" he says in a strict tone.

I turn the engine on and plug my phone in to the aux. "Well you seemed okay with it in there" I continue calmly.

"Yeah to get that guy off my back" he turns to face the window, avoiding eye contact.

"You seemed interested in him?"

"I wasn't"

"You seemed like you were"

"Well you clearly don't know me" he quips back annoyed.

I let out a breathy laugh, "I think I know you pretty well Davidson" I respond fondly.

"Doubt it" he says remaining short and closed off.

I lean over and grab his chin, turning his head to face mine. Once his eyes are locked on mine, I lean in closer and whisper to him like there are people around trying to listen, "I know you so well that you definitely did not find that bartender attractive and the only reason you flirted with him was to get a rise out of me" I say confidently, letting my thumb that is holding his chin play with his bottom lip, pulling it apart so that his mouth is agape.

I can see his hands start fidgeting in his lap in my peripheral vision and his eyes flicker down to my lips for a moment, but I catch it making me smirk.

"Tell me I'm wrong George" I enter my thumb in his mouth and he looks like he is in shock. He remains quiet and his eyelids become heavy. "You're being awfully quiet" I continue after not receiving a response after a few seconds.

"Well maybe I could respond if your thumb wasn't in my mouth" he replies sassily but muffled.

I press harder into his mouth and he closes it around my finger, sucking on it. "Always such a brat George, tell me I'm wrong and I'll leave you alone"

I pull my finger out and grab his chin again, tilting his head up to my liking.

"And if I tell you your right?" He coaxes.

"Then I'd tell you that I had a vacant house we could go to" I say lowly, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, awaiting his reply impatiently.

"I don't know Clay, you've been messing with me for awhile now, why should I go home with you now that you want to?" He fights back, to which I expected. I knew George wouldn't give in that easily, he was always such a challenge and that is what peaks my interest.

"Because I know how bad you want it, as much as you don't want to admit it" I push, testing my limits. But I know him, if he didn't want this he would have already tried to embarrass me or one up me by now, but he hasn't. Instead he sits there and looks like he is having a battle with his own mind.

"So tell me George, was I right, or was I wrong?" I egg on. As much as that was the initial question, there is much more at stake now with each answer he picks. And I know the real reason he is having trouble answering is because as much as he doesn't want to give in and tell me I was right, and how much he would love to say I'm wrong just to spite me, he wants to go home with me after the build up in tension over the past few weeks.

And I can't deny how badly I want him to come home with me as well.

"Fine, you were right"