Chapter Eight: Playing With Fire

Miley awoke two hours later. She groaned as she read her clock, realizing it was six. She was supposed to perform the national anthem for the president in less than three hours. Yes, she needed to be at the stadium by eight o’clock to get ready for her presentation at nine. There were procedures to go through; hair, make-up, wardrobe, and of course, sound check.

She turned over and noticed there was something on her.

Pulling it off, she realized it was Jake’s sweater?

Hmm, how’d that get there?

In an instant, she remembered their fight from earlier. Looking over to her side, she noticed Jake was sleeping. Miley turned to look at him.

He looked so peaceful. Man, she never noticed how nice his hair was, especially now that it was falling into his closed eyes. And the way he was breathing, his chest moving up and down. And just the way he was sprawled on the floor made her want to hug him and cuddle with him and have him wrap his strong arms around her and make her feel safe.

Wait, what?

Miley sighed. This was exactly how life always played out for her. She got in some crappy situation, made some equally crappy realization, and then ruined her life forever.

Just perfect.

She kept staring at him, trying to memorize every contour, every line of his face. She didn’t know when would be the next time she saw him like this – being quiet, not arguing with her, or being a jerk.

Miley scooted over to Jake, making as little sound as possible. She brushed some of his hair out of his eyes, forgetting the fact she was supposed to be hating him right now.

“I’m sorry,” Miley whispered. “You were right, I was wrong. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

And then her brain and body messed up somehow, and for a second it seemed like she was in another dimension, because she suddenly, out of nowhere, did the unexpected.

Before she knew what she was doing, she planted a soft kiss right in the middle of his forehead. She instantly regretted her actions when she felt the spark that came when her lips touched his skin.

Dammit Miley, she mentally slapped herself, just now realizing what she had done. She watched his face carefully, checking that he hadn’t woken up. Once she was sure he wasn’t going to move, she turned around, trying to ignore the heat creeping up her neck, and crawled back to her original sleeping position, missing the satisfied smirk on Jake’s face.

Miley awoke again at six thirty. She groaned (again) as she realized she’d only slept for half an hour. Not only did she have to be stuck in here, but she couldn’t even get her beauty sleep.

“Hello, beautiful,” Jake said, smiling at her from the other side of the room.

Miley sat up and rubbed her eyes, confused. Why was he acting like this?

“What’s wrong, what happened?” Miley asked, slumping back down on the floor.

Jake smiled cockily. “Oh nothing. We just got married, moved to Peru, had three kids, and now live in a condo by the beach with a dog named Rocky.”

Miley shot up in bed.

“WHAT!?”

It took Jake a full three minutes to stop laughing. Miley smacked him on the arm once he did.

“It’s not funny!” Miley protested.

“Yes, it is,” Jake said, beginning to laugh again. “You should have seen your face!”

Miley turned her back on him, facing the wall.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” Jake begged. “Besides, would being married to me be so bad?”

“Yes,” Miley said. “Nobody likes being married to big, fat, egotistical jerks.”

“Hey, hey now,” Jake said. “I’m not fat!”

Miley laughed – she couldn’t help it. Somehow it was so easy to forgive him.

“By the way,” Jake said casually, “you might want to stop wearing lip gloss. Just some advice, because lip gloss is dangerous. So dangerous it can sometimes find its way onto other people’s foreheads.” He pointed to a light glitter mark on his head.

Miley’s face turned red and Jake laughed again. She turned to the wall before Jake would notice.

“Somebody looks like a tomato today,” he commented. Miley punched his arm and Jake yelled “Ow!”

She looked at the walls and sighed.

“We’re never going to get out of here,” Miley declared. “We’ll starve and die in here.”

“Let’s write our wills,” Jake suggested, although obviously joking.

“Sure,” Miley agreed, also joking. “I, Miley Stewart, leave my never-ending stamp collection to my brother Jackson, my CDs to my best friend Oliver, my clothes to my best friend Lilly, my apologies to my father, and my body to the scientists at the hospital so it can help them cure cancer. Your turn.”

“I, Jake Ryan, leave my success and fame to my parents, so they can live in utter glory and pride – “ Miley smacked him on the arm to make him stop. He rubbed the spot where she had hit.

“Is it just me, or are you more violent than usual today?” he asked playfully.

“The closed space is making me different,” she replied jokingly. “And the fact that I’m kind of freezing in here isn’t helping.”

Jake looked over at her. “You’re cold?” he asked nonchalantly. “Well, baby, how about we do something to warm you up.” A seductive smile played at his lips as he leaned into her closer.

Miley laughed nervously. “Hold up there, boy.” Jake leaned away, a pouty frown forming on his face.

“Are you saying you don’t want to have a hot make-out session right here, right now, on this very floor?” he asked her in a sweet, innocent voice. Miley rolled her eyes.

“Right now we have bigger problems than that,” she said, pointing to the door. Jake grinned slyly.

“Come on, Stewart. We’re all alone. It’s locked. There’s no one who could possibly storm in on us,” Jake said, beginning to lean closer again. Miley held her breath so as to not inhale his very appealing peppermint scent.

“You can’t be serious,” she said jokingly.

“But I am,” he said, leaning further in her direction. She noticed how his arms – his toned, tan arms – were right beside each of her thighs, trapping her in the position awkwardly. His red, wonderful, lovely lips were merely inches away, and Miley began to panic.

And then another thought crossed her mind. Do I really not want this?

She slapped herself for thinking that way. Of course she didn’t want it! Of course she didn’t want to be kissed by Jake Ryan! She wasn’t some obsessed fangirl, for Christ’s sake. She wasn’t one of those screaming girls who saw every episode of Zombie High seventeen times, claimed to be his number one fan, and dreamt of nothing more than being stuck with him on a deserted island!

So what is she thought his body was hot? With his tan arms and toned abs, she had every right to! So what if she wanted nothing more now than to grab him and kiss his brains out?

He was hot. That was it. She didn’t like him. He had appealing looks and a nice body, but she, Miley Stewart, was absolutely, positively NOT falling for Jake Ryan.

He was inching closer and closer now. Ten centimeters. Nine. Eight.

She could feel his breath hot on her face. He was so doing this thing purposely, to freak her out. He didn’t want to really kiss her.

She knew that. No matter how much she wanted to kiss him, she had to draw the line somewhere.

“Hold it!” Her brain finally decided to register what was going on. She was glad it had chosen this response – if it had decided to let her go ahead, she had no idea what would happen with the rest of her life.

“W-w-we can’t d-do t-t-t-this!”” Miley stammered, and Jake pulled away, looking slightly frustrated. “This is absolutely, one hundred percent, NOT RIGHT.”

He looked at her seriously. Then…

He burst into laughter.

Yes. There he was, Jake Ryan, Ego King, laughing his face off at her. Miley didn’t understand what was so funny.

“What?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest absentmindedly, something she tended to do defensively when she was confused.

“You – should have – seen – the look – on – your – face!” he choked out between laughs. “I can’t believe you actually thought I was serious!”

Miley rolled her eyes.

“Come on, don’t be a bad sport, Miley,” he said, smiling. Then he broke out into a slight victory song/dance.

“That was mean!” Miley protested, for lack of better things to say.

But Jake was too busy taunting her. “You thought I would kiss you, ha, ha, ha!” he sang happily. Miley smacked his arm.

“What the hell?” he asked, rubbing the spot of impact.

“Why would you do that? Do you have any idea how freaked out I got?” she asked. Miley suddenly felt extremely grateful to her self-control. She didn’t want to know how big of a fool she’d end up if she’d actually let him kiss her. There would be no end to the teasing. She’d be the butt of every joke for the next two years. In fact, she didn’t think he’d ever let her forget it.

“It’s called acting!” Jake smirked. “You were terrified, Stewart. Quite frankly, it was hilarious.”

“It was not hilarious,” she protested, moving her hands down to her waist. She now held a furious pose, one that teacher’s often gave her when she was late to class.

“Yes it was.”

“No it wasn’t.”

“Was too.”

“Was not.”

“Was too.”

“Was not.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

They let their playful banter go on for a while, until Miley eventually rolled her eyes and saud, “You are so annoying.”

“No you are.”

“No you.”

“You.”

“You.”

Finally, after they got tired of it, Jake said, “Alright, I’m sorry.”

“You should be,” Miley responded. She turned around to face the wall, her cheeks still slightly pink with embarrassment of what had happened. Thank God she hadn’t let him kiss her, or she’d look like a tomato right now.

AN: Okay, sorry for being all MIA for so long. This chapter was written very quickly, because it's somewhat filler-ish, but it's also showing Miley's beginning to fall for Jake. It's shorter (and crappier) than I would like, but whatevs. Please review if you have the time - I love feedback! I'd really like to know what you think! As well, the more reviews I get, the more motivated I am to post the next chapter... Anyways, hopefully the next chapter will be up soon, but I can't promise anything. As always, thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed it.