When Christopher heard my exclamation, his expression shifted. He lightly patted my cheeks and retorted, “Eve, you're one year older than me. Should you really be calling me an old man?”
My cheeks turned red immediately. He never failed to make me blush every time he called me by my nickname. He tilted his face towards me. His eyes were bright with a mischievous light.
I playfully kicked him and snapped, “So, you fell in love at just twelve years old then? You asshole!”
Christopher smirked. He pulled me into his arms, spun me around, and pressed me against the wall in one smooth motion. “Since you keep calling me names, I think I should live up to those names. Shall I do to you what an asshole would really do?”
“We haven't had lunch yet. I'm hungry,” I said, playfully patting his cheek as he brought his face close to mine.
“Why don't we do something fun first? When we get home, I'll make your food while you relax on the couch and watch some TV. How does that sound?” Christopher whispered suggestively to me as he rained kisses on my lips and neck. His hands strayed down to my belt and he expertly undid it with his fingers.