Stop

“What now?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know a lot of things.”

“Shut up,” I growl, throwing a pillow at Peyton’s fat head. “You’re in no place to insult me you ass.”

Peyton frowned; although I was just messing around he seemed to take it pretty harsh. “I am…sorry Scout. I didn’t mean to hit you before-“

“Then why did you?”

“You want to know why I live with my grandmother?” Peyton asks, his eyes tearing away from my own so he can glare angrily at my wall. I watched, nervously, as Peyton ground his teeth together. “Because my parents got bored of me. They found someone more interesting.”

I had no idea what he meant, but I didn’t ask because he had more to say.

“I was never a very good son. I wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box and my parents expected a lot of me and when I couldn’t give them that…they adopted a new kid. I trusted them to still love me, their real son, as much as him. But I wasn’t as fun or as interesting as him, he wasn’t a mistake like me…so they disowned me and my grandma took me in.”

I had no idea what this had to do with anything, but finding that out made me mad. His parents disowned him because they found someone more interesting?

“To put it simply,” Peyton says, taking me out of my daydream of killing his parents with a spork. “I was frightened that you’d think Dean was better then me and you’d leave me just like they did.”

Now I got it. He was scared that I’d lose interest, which is funny because Dean could never replace Peyton.

I started laughing. Peyton watched me, an eyebrow raised, as I crawled across the couch so I could sit myself in his lap. His arm hesitantly curled around my waist and pulled me into him. I continued to laugh until Peyton sighed, “What’s your problem?”

“You’re such a freak!” I answer, resting my forehead against his own. “I could never ‘lose interest’ with you, you’re far too much fun to have around, even if you are a pain in my ass.”

“Well…I didn’t know that,” Peyton grumbled, his thumb rubbing circles on my side.

“You do now…so there’s no need to worry or freak out over who I hang out with…right? Or do I have to call Jeremy and have him come over here so he can rape your sorry ass with a two by four?”

Peyton groaned, “Lets leave that dumb ass out of this.”

“So…then you won’t freak out?”

“I won’t.”

“Promise.”

He grumbles profanities before wrapping his pinky around my own. I squeezed and didn’t let go until I ask, “And now…you got to promise again not to touch drugs, alcohol…or anyone other then me sexually ever again.”

The smirk on Peyton’s face pretty much said it all. I rolled my eyes before we shook on it and I finally let his pinky go.

“I am sorry,” he repeats for the billionth time that night.

“Stop apologizing I forgive you,” I laugh before doing something that I’ve been craving for weeks.

I kissed him.

The feel of his lips against my own was addicting. I didn’t want to pull away. I didn’t want him to pull away. I just wanted to feel the way our lips seemed to fit together perfectly. I wanted to feel the cold lip rings mixed with the warmth of his mouth.

“So we’re good?” Peyton asks hopefully once we pulled apart for air.

“Yeah,” I answer, leaning back in for another dose.