The Babysitter

Chapter 16: Spaghetti



Chapter 16: Spaghetti

Chapter 16: (Aubrey's POV)- Spaghetti

I was red. And I mean red. My cheeks were flushed with heat and color gushing to them while I ran

straight up to his room. I grabbed myself a shirt, the first shirt I saw in his closet, and a pair of grey

sweatpants. I made sure the sweatpants had strings otherwise they would fall right off. I don't know if

that's a diss to him or a compliment to myself.

We'll stick to a compliment to myself.

I was looking for the pants when he swung his door wide open while laughing like a walrus. "Xavier!" I

threw the shirt on as fast as I could. I've never put on a shirt that fast.

Once I had the shirt on, I was ok since it pretty much went down my mid-thigh which was long enough

to cover me in all my glory or as he's been saying beauty. "I hate you, you're so annoying." I rolled my

eyes at him while throwing the sweatpants on, tightening them to the gods.

Somehow yet luckily my undergarments managed to stay dry. I understand since I was wearing shorts

but somehow my bra was dry. Thank god. I quickly threw his clothes on before marching up to him and

shoving him.

"That was rude."

Another shove.

"And unnecessary."

Another shove.

"And a dick move."

Another shove.

"You shouldn't have done that."

With that final shove, his back hit the door.

"Well I did, so what are you gonna do about it?" He looked at me with that same amusement in his

eyes and smirk dancing on his lips.

I could swear that smirk is always there, I wish I could smack it right off. I took a deep breath,

containing my emotions. "Nothing." I plastered a smile. "Absolutely nothing because you're the baby I'm

babysitting and as your babysitter, I will do the right thing, the thing that any babysitter would do and I

will forgive the baby that I babysit, for making me regret choosing to babysit him," I explained in the

most complicated way possible just to see the confusion find its way to his face.

"What'd you just say?" he questioned in utter confusion.

"I said take off your pants, you're soaking the floor," I smirked before plopping on his bed, grabbing the

book on his bedside. Murder On The Orient Express. I read this one a while ago, it's a good book, I'm

surprised it's his first time reading it.

I heard him clearing his throat, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Not the first time reading it." he

leaned against his closet door, shirtless, messy hair, grey sweats. Perfection.

Aubrey!

Sorry, my bad!

"It's a good one, isn't it? I've read it a few times." I spoke, placing it back on the bedside, before

grabbing a pillow and placing it behind my head.

"You wanna head downstairs and help me with making dinner? I'll make you your favorite," he spoke in

a sing-song voice.

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion before I spoke up. "And what must that be?" I narrowed my eyes at

him suspiciously.

"Mac n' cheese of course!" he spoke sarcastically. "Kidding, I'll make spaghetti," he suggested.

"Good old spaghetti, right. Let's go." I rolled out of bed and walked down the stairs, following Xavier.

We went downstairs and I sat up on the counter while he turned on the stove before placing water in

the pot, setting it on the stove for boiling. He got the spaghetti and put it in the pot before turning to me.

"Now what?" I rocked my legs back and forth while gripping onto the edges of the counter.

"You tell me," he sighed while placing his arms next to either one of my thighs and onto the counter.

"Mario kart?" I arched an eyebrow at him challengingly.

"Nope. Thanks but no thanks. I'm not interested in losing again," he laughed sarcastically.

"Of course your highness." I nodded at him. "You uh- you have a leaf in your hair." I laughed slightly

before picking it out for him. It probably got there with the rain since the swing is somewhat under the

tree.

"Carthy, can I ask you a question?" he requested, getting my undivided attention. Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

"Yeah, sure." I nodded, suggesting he continued and asked whatever he wanted to.

"Am I that bad?" he asked. He continued once he saw my confused expression. "I break the law, I

mess around with girls, I don't take anything seriously, I don't help my mom out with anything, I'm a dick

even to you when I shouldn't be. I am that bad right?" he asked, taking a step back to lean on the

counter opposite to mine, beside the stove.

I was thinking of how to answer his question when my eyes landed on his arm, which was about to

touch the pot, and result in a severe burn since when I looked at the water, I saw it to be boiling. I

instantly leaned forward and grabbed the collar of his shirt which I had forced him to put on, and pulled

him close to myself.

He stumbled and lost his balance slightly, getting pulled closer to me than I had intended but he caught

himself.

"Y-your arm. It was gonna get... burnt," I stuttered while both of us breathed heavily. "Parker," I sighed.

"You're not that bad, you're not bad at all for that matter. Sure, you could use a little improvement but

we all could. You're great," I answered his question as best as I could, trying to get my point across.

"Thanks, for the arm and the answer." He gave me a small smile.

"You're welcome." I smiled back. "Now can I please get my spaghetti? Pronto!" I grabbed his shoulder,

shaking him a little, making him laugh.

He looked amazing when he was laughing and happy. He should wear his smile so much more often

than he does. He has a breathtaking smile and I will never be able to get enough of it.

I'm calling it, I'm going to end up liking this boy. Soon. For god's sake, I think I'm already starting to like

him. Starting. Remember that. There's a long way to go.

"Did you tell your mom that I'm staying the night?" I questioned while he put the spaghetti in two plates

for the servings.

"I dropped her a text, she said it's perfectly okay." He gave me a look that screamed 'I told you so'.

"Well, I haven't told my mom, let me text her." I grabbed my phone, and dropped her a text, she replied

immediately which meant she was probably on a coffee break and said it was fine and she appreciated

me not risking burning the house down.

Dramatic much, mom? Probably not, honestly, I probably would burn the house down.

"Are you looking for a boyfriend, Carthy?" he asked out of nowhere, taking me by surprise.

I almost choked on my spaghetti, not even kidding or exaggerating. "Yeah, I guess." I shrugged

casually.

Play it cool, Aubrey. Play it cool.

"What's your type?" he interrogated.

"Someone seems very interested in knowing," I teased. "Why are you asking me this?" I questioned.

"Just answer the question first, I'll give you my reasoning after that." he dodged it.

Smooth, Parker. Smooth. Change the topic, smooth.

"Someone funny, initially attractive to me, supportive, has a good heart no matter what people think and

how he acts, caring, entertaining, good taste in books and movies, hopefully, the same as me so we

don't argue on what movie to watch, and someone who's just there for me. That's my checklist, why?" I

explained but not before asking him for that reasoning he promised.

He awkwardly cleared his throat. "I think I know somebody that seems like a good match for you, that's

all." he shrugged.

"Does this somebody have a name? Or a number?" I had to at least try and see if he would get jealous,

it's an old trick in the books. Come on.

"Why are you suddenly so eager to know?" he questioned.

"What do you mean? You just told me you know a guy my type. Who?" I feigned excitement.

"Now that I think about it, he's not really your type, he doesn't like the same books and movies as you,"

he spoke hesitantly.

Okay, Parker. Two can play this game. It takes two to tango honey.

"If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you're getting jealous."


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