How to Get Rid of Your Ex Girlfriend

“If I’da known this’d be this awesome I woulda done’t long ago.” I grinned at Tyler, words slurring together slightly. He looked a little hazy now, but maybe it was the low lighting. “I can’t even really ‘member what I wanted to forget…”

“That sounds redundant.” He giggled at me, rocking backward and forward with a wide-eyed, slightly insane look on his face.

I flicked him in the forehead. “S’not redundant, estúpido.”

Tyler said something incoherent and keeled over backward, falling back onto the pillows of the bed and shaking with laughter.

Despite the fact that it wasn’t really that funny, I started to giggle too.

And yes, I do mean giggle. Here we were, two seventeen-year-old guys GIGGLING.

“C’mere,” he choked out, grabbing my hand and pulling me down with him. I let myself fall onto the bed next to him, enjoying the bouncing sensation. Like a one of those bouncy houses at the carnivals. I’d always loved those…

Tyler didn’t let go of my hand until we stopped laughing and propped ourselves upright again. I smiled at this, watching his eyes sparkle. He looked so different from normal. His navy sweater was askew and his hair was messy in a way he would have never allowed had he been sober. But I found I liked him either way.

A grin formed across my face. “Damn Adams, you look hot in that sweater!”

I swear I saw him blush as he misread my meaning.

“I mean, you must be like…like 200 degrees in there,” I drawled, leaning over to hook a finger into the neck hole. “So why don’t you…” I tugged at it playfully and watched the color rise in his cheeks. “…take it off?”

Without waiting for an answer, I pulled it slowly and gently over his head, taking care not to mess up his hair. It was too perfectly ruffled. I didn’t want to ruffle it more and mess it up.

He stared at me for a second, then took the navy sweater from my hands and tossed it to the side. “Fischer, what the hell are you doing?”

What I was doing was staring blatantly at his bare chest. And damn…he looked good. I didn’t care that he didn’t have a six-pack. I liked his body anyway.

But at his words, my head snapped back up to his face. “…Nothing.”

“I thought you weren’t gay,” he said with a slow smile, a note of playful teasing to his voice.

“M’not,” I insisted, looking away suddenly.

He placed a slender finger under my chin and, with the lightest touch, directed my face towards his so that we gazing straight into each other’s eyes. “Are you sure about that?”

“Y-Yeah...” I said, a little too hesitantly.

“Then why,” he drawled, exactly the way I had just a minute ago, “why did you take off my shirt?”

I stared, partly because I had no answer to this and partly because the colors making up his hazel eyes were so mesmerizing.

His fingers moved from chin and snaked around my neck, pulling me closer to him. “It was because you wanted me shirtless, wasn't it?” he breathed.

Again, I refrained from answering, but merely noted the fact that his breath still smelled like strawberries. Beer and strawberries, but the strawberries were still there.

He leaned his forehead against mine, speaking directly into my lips, so that I felt the fluctuation of his air with each word pass between them and fade away. “Kiss me.”

“I can’t,” I responded quietly, noting the way his fingers were curling into my hair and the sudden longing sensation it conjured up. Without meaning to, my lips parted.

I felt his face stretch into a grin. “You want to kiss me.”

“N-no, I don’t…”

In that moment, I was aware of everything. Aware of everything from the bits of hair tickling my temples to the way his bare skin seemed to glisten in the low light. Aware of that feeling that rose up inside me first during our kiss at Sam’s, the one that could have been butterflies but I’d insisted to myself was nausea.

I shivered with pleasure as his fingers removed themselves from my hair to cup my cheek, excited against my will.

And then they were gone. HE was gone, moved away in the blink of an eye and sitting, shirtless and smirking, on the other side of the bed. I stared for a second, still breathless.

Then I fixed him with my dirtiest glare. “You can’t just…ugh, Adams!” I clenched my fists, trying to hide my sudden disappointment. “You can’t just DO that!”

“Do what?” he asked innocently, grinning like an axe-murderer.

“You…you said…!”

“Oh, you actually wanted to kiss me? See, you said you weren’t gay.” He shrugged. “So I figured I wouldn’t force you to do anything.”

I glared at him in frustration.

“So you did want to kiss me?” He drew out his words, taunting me.

“I’m going to wipe that dirty little smirk off your face!” I growled, breaching the space between us and pushing him hard down onto the bed in my anger. “God fucking dammit Adams, don’t do that!”

He looked up at me calmly. “Do what?”

“Don’t tease me like that!” I breathed deeply, trying to master myself. “I thought…”

“You think I’m sexy,” he sang, grinning from ear to ear, “you want to kisss me, you want to loooove me-”

I couldn’t take it anymore. The temptation got the better of me.

I moved my face towards his, so close that our lips were nearly touching again. “How would you feel if I pulled away right now?”

Now he was the breathless one. “Don’t, please…”

“Exactly,” I laughed.

Then my lips came down onto his…and forget heaven. It nearly caused me a heart attack.