68 Days And Counting

Chapter One: Redheads Are The Wildest In Bed.

Beside me on my small bed, I heard and felt shuffling. The bed dipped on one side and my blanket rose off of me. He pressed himself against me, his body heat radiating from his body. With my eyes still shut, I leaned back into his presence, wrapping myself into his scent. 

He put his strong arms around me, pushing my hair away and kissing the back of my neck. I felt his natural I-want-to-rake-my-fingers-through-his-hair hair tickle the back of my neck. "Morning."

"What do you want?" I muttered, putting my arms over his.

"I come with food for you." He practically sang and I leapt out of his arms.

"Where?" I asked quickly, looking down at him as he stared up at me smugly.

Samuel Henry Cahill.

There were a lot of things people used to call him. A bad boy. A player. Aggressive. Egotistic. And while he was some of those words, he was my idiot of a boyfriend with vivid green eyes and very curly hair that was currently spread around his face and some strands on his forehead. He was extremely good looking and he knew it. He was an amazing soccer player even though now that we were living in Manchester he said football all the time. But all in all, he was a great guy.

He wasn't perfect but he was to me even when he had the decency to lie about food in my dorm room. Idiot.

"There's no food. There's no pancakes or waffles, not even a sausage or bacon." I muttered, narrowing my eyes at him.

"We'll get some when you're happy to see me." He assured looking amused.

I leaned forward to hug him and straddle him as he wrapped his arms around me in his heat. "I am happy to see you. I just wanted to sleep, you dork and when I hear you come in the morning to walk with me to class it just means my sleep is ruined."

"Well tomorrow is Saturday...you want to stay over tonight or tomorrow? I'll let you sleep all you want."

"Is Peter going to be there?" I asked him.

Sam shrugged. "He said that he might go see his girlfriend in Yorkshire this weekend so he may not be there but that means Saturday night for sure."

It wasn't that I didn't like Peter, Sam's cousin. I did. He's a Cahill but he was the type of Cahill that had rowdiness in him kind of like Ivan. But he was the type of guy to yell 'its 4:20 somewhere' but instead of drugs it was alcohol. I didn't know if he was an alcoholic but most times when I saw him, he was taking a sip of wine or chugging on beer.

I kissed Sam on his jaw and he smiled lightly while closing his eyes. "You have practice tomorrow?"

I nodded in the crook of Sam's neck, sighing as I knew tomorrow my sleep would definitely be ruined. "Yeah at seven. I still can't believe I made the team."

Sam's hands went up against my back, leaving tingles in his wake until he reached my ponytail. His fingers took the hairband out letting my hair escape from its confinements. "Why? You deserve it."

I leaned back to look at him and could see the honesty on his face. Through the past months, Sam has been completely clear on his emotions, sharing everything he's feeling instead of hiding them out and suppressing them like he used to.

I kissed him lightly, feeling the warmth and electricity move between us that will forever surprise me. He pressed closer against me, pushing me closer to himself and smiling through it. Even though the fabric of his leather jacket I could feel the body heat coming from him. I was thinking of how he was warm in the freezing weather this city when his teeth tugged on my bottom lip and I gasped into his mouth.