A/N: Thirty-two reviews?! Oh my GOSH, that is INSANE. You're all so amazing. I could never have dreamt of such a wonderful thing!!

I'm really sorry this update took so long...again, blame it on my mother... Things have gotten so much worse. It's just nightmarish.

BUT before I continue, I would like to dedicate this chapter to two of my bestest friends. :) First off, I'm dedicating it to Drew (MileyAddicted) because he left me the most AMAZING review in the HISTORY OF THE WORLD last chapter, and because he is always there for me, constantly makes me smile and laugh when I'm feeling down, and I am just soo thankful for his friendship. :) Secondly, this is dedicated to my friend, Tori, because, despite the fact that she is a Loliver shipper, she has always been so supportive and enthusiastic about this fanfic! I meant to have this up for her birthday (August 26) but that didn't work out! So sorry Tori! I love you both! :D :D

Disclaimer: I don't think I own HM...but I could be wrong. :P

I Can't Make You Love Miley If You Don't

Chapter 13: Guess I'm Used To My Southern Girl

"Miley!" Lilly picked up on the first ring, her voice bursting into Miley's cell phone excitedly. "How was the party?"

"The party...," Miley repeated slowly. Truthfully? Probably about the furthest thing from her mind at the moment. "Wow...that just—seems so long ago."

"Didn't it just end?" Lilly asked in confusion. "Or—did you, like, just wait forever to call me?!"

"No, no—we left early. I was still with Oliver—"

"Oh my gosh!" Lilly cut in with a shriek, her mind jumping to all kinds of conclusions. "I guess it got too boring for him, huh?!"

"Wha—"

"Oh, ew, no! I can't believe he went there so quickly!"

"Lilly—"

She continued to go unhearing, still muttering to herself. "Oh, God. Ugh..."

"Lilly!" Miley yelled a little louder. "It wasn't like that! Gosh—first Marc, now you? I swear, you people are just..." She trailed off with a shake of her head.

"Wait—what about Marc?"

"If you let me finish without interrupting, I'll explain," Miley replied, a little agitated.

"Fine. Go ahead."

"We left early because Oliver punched someone."

There was a short pause, and then—

"Oliver?! Oliver punched someone?!" Lilly shrieked. She broke into a fit of uproarious laughter. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA—"

"LILLY! Would you please—"

"HAHAHAHA—"

"I'm not joking!"

"Oh." The laughter died as quickly as it had started. "You're not?"

"No!" Miley snapped. "Oliver ran into some guy named Mark and thought he was my ex-boyfriend—"

"Um, OK, why?"

"Didn't I tell you about telling Oliver that my ex-boyfriend's name was Mark?"

"No," Lilly huffed, definitely upset that this was the first she'd heard of it. "And why the heck did you use his brother's name?! Are you kidding me, Miley, you're a horrible liar!"

"Well, I've kept the secret up this long, haven't I?" she shot back.

"Ha, yeah... Let's just say you're lucky that Oliver isn't the brightest person in the world..."

"Lilly!"

"OK, so he punched this random guy, and you guys left the party," Lilly recapped. "Then what happened?"

"Oh my gosh, it was wonderful." Miley's voice immediately softened at the memory, and she got all dreamy-eyed. "We were making out and—"

"Ahhh! No! TOO MUCH INFORMATION!" Lilly screamed frantically. Probably holding her hands over her ears to block it all out, too.

"—I wasn't wearing my wig!" Miley finished, raising her voice in hopes that Lilly would hear her in spite of all that.

It seemed to work, because immediately Lilly drew in a huge gasp. "You mean you told him?!" she squealed excitedly. "Oh my gosh, Miley, that's so awesome! See, I told you it would all work out! Aww..."

"No, Lilly, no, I didn't tell him!" Miley groaned. "Would you just listen—"

"Oh my gosh, so he was just kissing you as Miley without knowing you were Hannah?! See, I told you—"

"No!" Miley exclaimed in exasperation. "I didn't tell him and he didn't know I was Miley! He was blindfolded!"

"WHAT?!"

Miley grimaced. Apparently the yelling wasn't over yet. Lilly usually didn't get this crazy over the phone. Probably had too much sugar in her dessert or something...

"I thought you said it wasn't like that! Oh. My. God! You two—"

"He wanted to wash my hair!" Miley cut in. "OK?! That's all it was!"

"Ohh," Lilly breathed. "I get it. Yeah, he did always have that obsession with Hannah's beautiful blonde hair." She laughed. "But—why was he blindfolded, exactly?"

"Um, hello? It's not like I could let him wash my wig!"

"Duh, I know that. I meant, like, how did you convince him to wear the blindfold?"

She shrugged. "It wasn't hard. I just told him we had to do things my way or not at all."

"Oh my gosh—do you know what this means?!" Lilly burst out excitedly.

"Um. No?"

"You can get him to do anything!" she squealed. "Tell him to buy me a new skateboard!"

"And why would I do that?" Miley scoffed.

"Because I want one. And you know he'd do it if Hannah asked him."

She shook her head in disbelief. "Lilly, we are not going to take advantage of Oliver's obsession with Hannah. It's a little thing called wrong."

"But, Miley. Isn't that exactly what you're doing? Taking advantage of Oliver's obsession with Hannah so that you can date him?"

Miley's mouth dropped a little at the accusation. "That's different," she insisted.

"Why? Because what I wanna do would hurt Oliver's wallet, but what you're doing might hurt his heart?" Lilly went on. "Yeah, you're right. That's a lot different."

Miley's throat tightened up. Since when was Lilly her voice of reason? She did not like where this conversation was going.

Suddenly a familiar ring tone went off from the other cell phone lying on her nightstand, and she was spared from continuing it.

"Oh, oh! Oliver's calling the Hannah phone! Gotta go!"

"OK, but think about what I—"

Miley clicked off and switched phones before Lilly had a chance to finish the admonishment. "Oliver!" she gushed happily into the mouthpiece.

"Hannah!" he greeted her just as excitedly. "Where are you?"

"Um. I'm at home in bed, where are you?" she laughed.

"I'm at our special spot on the beach." Miley could just picture the grin on his face as he said it.

"We have a special spot?" she asked curiously.

"Yeah, you know—the spot where you told me you couldn't live without me."

"Huh...and why don't I remember saying this?" Miley teased him.

"Well, probably because your exact words were 'we can never be apart.' Which is exactly why you should come meet me here right now!"

Miley took one glance at the clock in her room and her eyebrows rose. "Are you serious? It's past ten."

"So?"

"Oliver, my dad would never let me go out this late—and especially not with you—"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't asking if he wanted you to go. I was asking if you wanted to go."

"Wait, you mean like"—she lowered her voice to a whisper and glanced around the room as if afraid that some invisible person might overhear—"sneaking out?" Miley felt her heart rate speed up with excitement just at saying the words aloud.

"That's what I did," he replied proudly, "and not even my mom, the cop suspected anything."

"Well. I do have a rope ladder I could use to climb out the window."

"Then what are you waiting for?" he burst out. "Get over here!"

Miley giggled at his impatience. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Oliver."

Her soft, whispery voice broke into the quiet stillness of the night. Not sharply, but as if it belonged there; gently floating out on the wind, beckoning to him sweetly.

Oliver lifted his eyes and was instantly mesmerized by the sight before him. He sat there, drinking it in: the way the wisps of her beautiful blonde hair were stirred by the slight breeze, how wonderfully the delicate little nightgown with the shimmery fabric and lace trim showed off those gorgeous legs of hers, and how the moonlight illuminated her perfect features—all making her appear more goddess than human.

"Wow," he breathed out slowly.

A smile tugged at Miley's lips as she continued to stand there unmoving, letting him gaze for as long as he liked.

But after a few moments, the look of awestruck wonder on Oliver's face seemed to change ever so slightly. He got up and stepped toward her, his eyes more focused now and holding a bit of curiosity in them.

"Do you always look like you've just stepped off the cover of a magazine?" he asked bluntly.

Miley blinked in surprise, completely unsure how to interpret the question. It didn't sound like a compliment.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," she finally responded, glancing down at her attire dejectedly. "It's the nightgown, isn't it? You don't like it."

"What?" Oliver gasped in shock. "No! Of course I do!"

"It's OK if you don't," Miley told him, although the frown on her face said otherwise.

"Hannah. Haven't I told you that no matter what you wear, you still look more beautiful than any other girl on earth?"

She glanced back up into his eyes. His voice was so soft, so sincere, so loving—and yet she still studied him with a face full of doubt. After all, if that were true, then wouldn't she still look beautiful to him without the wig on? But he never looked at Miley the way he was looking at Hannah right now. At least, not that she'd noticed. And she would have noticed.

Oliver's eyes flickered downwards again, then back up to hers, a wide grin spreading across his face. "And anyways, that nightgown is totally sexy on you." He winked.

A small giggle escaped her lips. "I thought I saw you staring earlier," she teased him.

"Oh yes. I like to look."

Miley's eyes widened slightly and her hand flew to her mouth in amusement.

"Oh gosh," Oliver groaned in embarrassment upon noticing her expression. "I need to think before I speak."

Miley just giggled some more. "So then...what did you mean...when you asked that about how I looked?"

His face grew serious again. "Well, like...is that really what you wear to bed every night?" he enquired.

"Is that really what you wear to bed every night?" Miley countered, gesturing toward the wife-beater and striped pyjama pants he had on.

Wow. Staring at his shoulder muscles like that just made her fingertips go all tingly...

Oliver's laughter broke her out of the thought. "Yeah, like I was gonna run down here in nothing but my boxers," he was saying.

Miley grinned slowly as the new image filled her head. "Y'know, I really wouldn't have minded that."

"Oh, of course not. 'Cause you're just dying to see Smoken Oken in all his shirtless glory," Oliver teased her.

"You know it," Miley grinned back. Almost instinctively, she grabbed at the ribbed tank and pulled him closer, fully preparing to kiss him again. Until he had the idiocy to open his mouth, that was.

"What about your makeup?"

Miley's eyes fluttered back open and she eyed him strangely. "What about my makeup?"

"Nothing...I just thought that girls wiped that stuff off before going to sleep," he commented. "My mom does, anyways."

"Well...I thought you might want to help me with the lip-gloss," she replied suggestively, tugging down slightly on the neckline of his shirt and batting her big blue eyes at him.

His eyes widened in shock, and Miley immediately knew that her attempt at distracting him from the odd questions milling around in his head was working. "Wh—seriously?"

She nodded vigorously back at him, her face beaming.

"But so then...you did just put it on because of me," he concluded.

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Oliver. Does it matter?"

"Well, not really... But I mean, what were you doing? When I called you?"

With a sigh, Miley sat down on the blanket he had spread out for them on the sand, and Oliver followed suit. She really didn't understand his persistence with this, but obviously the night wasn't going anywhere until he got the answers he wanted, for whatever reason. So she might as well give them to him now.

"I was talking to Lilly on the other line," she answered plainly.

"Lilly?" Oliver repeated questioningly. "How'd she get your number? I know I didn't give it to her."

Crap. Miley closed her eyes and mentally scolded herself. Of course he didn't. Because Lilly wasn't Hannah's friend; she was just an annoying fan. Gosh, if she could just keep her story straight for once...

"Um...she said that she stole your phone when you weren't paying attention," Miley said uneasily, "and found it on there. I think."

"Ugh, I keep telling her not to touch my phone!" he exclaimed in aggravation, pulling the cell out of the pocket of his pyjama bottoms. "I bet she changed stuff around while she was looking for your number, too. She is constantly doing that." He scrolled down, checking for evidence of Lilly's presence, when suddenly a thought came to him. "Wait a minute. I didn't save you as Hannah, just in case my phone did get stolen or lost. How'd she figure out that was you?"

"I don't know. What did you save me as?" Miley asked curiously.

"Uh—that's not important," Oliver said quickly, a light blush creeping across his face.

"Oliver. Give me the phone," Miley instructed him firmly.

"Wha—no!" he burst out, yanking it behind his back. "It's not important, really!"

"Oliver." She glared at him pointedly, clearly growing frustrated with his antics. "Give me the phone, or else."

"Or else what?" he grinned back at her.

"Or else I will hold you down and force you to give it to me," she shot back, the glare never wavering.

"Hold me down," he repeated. "Ahhh. Hold me down. Sure. Fun."

Miley gave him a once-over. "What? You don't think I could? Just 'cause I'm a girl doesn't mean I can't take you!"

"Suuuurrrre." Oliver rolled his eyes.

"Do not underestimate me, boy," she growled. "I may look sweet, innocent and harmless on the outside—but on the inside, I am mean, tough and scary!"

Unable to hold it in any longer, Oliver simply let loose and busted out laughing, causing Miley to eye him strangely.

"What's so funny?" she asked suspiciously.

"You don't get it, do you?" he laughed.

"Um...no?" She furrowed her eyebrows and thought back to what she had said. "What... WAIT. Oh my GOSH. I did not mean it like that!" she squealed.

"Well excuse me for being a guy and giving me the three words, 'hold me down'!"

"Oh my gosh," Miley giggled, her cheeks red from embarrassment. "I bet you really enjoyed that, didn't you?!"

"Mhm," he smirked. "Mean, tough and scary."

She smiled and rolled her eyes, her gaze landing on the cell phone, which she then noticed he wasn't guarding so carefully anymore due to the unintended distraction. Quickly taking advantage of what she saw as a perfect opportunity, Miley lunged forward and grabbed it from his hand—not realizing that, due to the close proximity in which he was sitting, she didn't exactly need to use so much force—and accidentally crashing down on top of him in the process.

Oliver blinked up at her, stunned momentarily by the sudden impact. Then slowly his lips curled into a grin. "Wow. You really weren't kidding about the 'hold me down' thing, now were you?" he teased.

"Oliver!" she squealed once more, smacking him lightly on the shoulder before rolling off of him and onto her back. She snuggled up closer to him and then dangled the cell above his face in a taunt. "I got it," she declared proudly.

"Yeah, you did," he sighed, smiling over at her all the while.

She drew it closer and opened up his contacts, quickly scouring through them for any name she didn't recognize. She paused when she reached the Ls. "Lilly's name is in all caps with three exclamation points at the end," Miley remarked amusedly.

Oliver glanced over and immediately saw the big LILLY!!! in the middle of the list. "Ugh. She did take it," he said in disgust. "Why can't she keep her hands off my stuff?"

Miley smiled and kept going. "Love Of My Life," she read aloud. "Is that me?"

"What?" Oliver asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Surprised at his reaction, she hit 'view,' and when the digits appeared on the screen, her eyes widened slightly. "That's—"

"That's Miley's number!" he finished for her, eyes widened in shock. The longer he stared at the display, the angrier and more defensive his voice became. "I'm telling you, that totally had to be Lilly!"

"Sure."

"It's probably just her twisted idea of a joke," he went on. "There is nothing going on between Miley and me. Nothing at all."

Instantly her face grew somber. The truth of those words hit her square in the stomach, and she felt her throat tighten up.

"Hannah? Are you all right?" he asked in concern when she didn't answer him.

Hannah. God, how she hated hearing that name.

"I—I swear we're just friends," he tried again.

"Shh. I know," Miley replied faintly.

"I'm sorry," he continued quietly, "if that upset you..."

She glanced into his eyes, so full of remorse over something that wasn't even his fault. Of course it was only normal for him to assume his girlfriend would be upset over that, not knowing that she and Miley were one and the same. Of course he was only trying to fix things. Of course he didn't mean anything by it...

"It's okay," she reassured him softly, deciding then not to let anything ruin the perfect night they were sharing together.

He smiled in relief, then nodded toward the phone. "You're still on there," he reminded her.

"Oh, right." She flashed him a half-smile and continued down the list, although in all honesty, she wasn't too interested anymore. All the names looked normal for a while—Marc, Matt, Mom...Sarah... Wait a minute. Saint Sarah? Why the hell did he have her number? Eh, whatever...

And then the next one startled her so badly that she sat straight up, her eyes huge and her mouth dropped wide open, unable to think or speak for a few moments.

"Oh. My. God."

"Ooh, did you find it," he commented, no question in his voice. He proceeded in sitting up as well.

She jerked toward him, her expression still one of complete and total shock. "Oliver!"

"What?" he asked, trying to sound innocent. The dumb smirk plastered on his face betrayed him, however.

"There—there is no way that's me!" she squealed.

"There's no way...what's not you?"

Miley narrowed her eyes at him. "Like you don't know."

"I don't!" he laughed. "What did you find?"

Her face was burning as she glanced back down and read the words on the screen. "Sex Goddess?" she squeaked, unable to believe her own ears.

"Oh. You're right," he returned uninterestedly. "That's not you."

The surprise turned to intense anger, and she shot him a glare of death that would've turned anyone's blood cold. "WHAT?!" she yelled furiously. "Who else could it be?!"

Oliver fought back a smile as he gave her his answer: "Traci."

"Traci?! Did you just say TRACI?!" she shrieked.

"Gosh, don't be so loud," he laughed. "There could be other people out here taking nice, romantic moonlit strolls along the beach. You wouldn't want to disturb them, now would you?"

She paid no attention to that. "If you—you—" she stuttered, so agitated that it was becoming hard to form sentences.

"Yes?"

"If you want a—Sex Goddess—then I will show you a Sex Goddess!"

His eyes widened, both in shock and excitement over this new declaration. But before he even had time to open his mouth, Miley threw herself at him, slamming him back down on the ground again and knocking the wind out of him. And then her lips were on him, attacking his ferociously, in a way that he never thought possible of sweet little Hannah Montana. Her hands slid up his shirt, feeling over every inch of his upper body, and—

All he saw was Miley. Miley, not Hannah, touching him like that. Kissing him like that. Wanting him like that.

And oh God, did he want her too.

With newfound passion at this realization, he succeeded in rolling them over so that he was on top of her. He kissed her back with an insatiable hunger, moving from her mouth down her jawline and finally reaching her neck, which he spent extra time on. A soft moan escaped her lips, only encouraging him further. His hands slid down her sides, feeling her curves, and when they reached her legs he immediately found himself grateful for the short nightgown she had on, glamorous or not.

But then suddenly, and completely out of the blue, Miley cried, "Stop!"

And that's what he did.

She hadn't even realized she'd said it aloud until Oliver flew off of her and blinked down at her in surprise. Not because of what she said, but because of who he was staring at there on the sand. It was Hannah, not Miley. Hannah, with her long blonde hair looking a bit tousled, gazing up at him with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out, her voice soft and breathy. "It's just—I think—we might be going a little too fast."

It was the best explanation she could come up with that would make sense to him, and hopefully not push him away. But truthfully, it wasn't the speed at which they were going, or that she didn't want do this with him—she did.

But she wanted it to be Miley, not Hannah, who got to have this special moment with Oliver. Hannah already got everything—the fame, the fans, the boyfriend. Miley wasn't about to let her have this too.

To her surprise, he didn't come back with a rebuttal of "I waited two years for you," or anything remotely similar. Instead, Oliver just nodded, his eyes full of understanding.

"You're right," he said simply, holding out a hand to help pull her up next to him. Because little did she know, he was thinking along the same lines she was.

Miley smiled gratefully and wrapped her arms around him, nuzzling her head into the crook of his neck. "I love you," she whispered softly, afraid he might doubt it now.

"I know," he replied gently, returning her embrace. "I love you too. So much." A pang of guilt stabbed him with each word. Someone who loved her like he claimed to wouldn't be fantasizing about another girl constantly, would he?

And he wasn't even sure why it was happening—he figured it was just some weird one-time thing earlier that day and had shrugged it off. But what with it happening again tonight, he was forced to re-examine himself. He did love Hannah; he was sure of that. So then...why did he keep seeing Miley every time he closed his eyes?

"Oliver," her voice broke into his thoughts, "are you ever going to explain why you were interrogating me earlier?"

He laughed at her choice of words. "I wasn't interrogating you. I was just trying to...to understand."

"Understand what?" she asked curiously.

"Well, like, if you ever...I don't know. Just chilled out at home and stuff. Like a normal teenager. Without having to look...well, like a superstar, all the time."

Miley's mouth almost dropped open. That was why they had created Hannah in the first place! So she could be a normal teenager.

But she couldn't tell Oliver that. Not yet, anyways. And since he was asking Hannah, she had to answer as Hannah.

"Not that it's a bad thing for you to look like a superstar," he was rambling. "Because, I mean, that's what you are. But like—"

"No," Miley cut in.

"No?" he repeated in dismay. "Never?"

"Well." She pulled back and glanced up at him with a smile. "I think you're my little slice of normal. And you're the best thing that ever happened to me."

Oliver beamed and pulled her in tightly to himself. He pressed his forehead against hers, gazed down adoringly into those eyes, and Miley knew in that moment that there was no place else she'd rather be but there in his arms. It was the safest and most secure feeling she had ever known before; and she knew that no matter what happened, as long as he was there holding her, everything would be all right. A small yawn escaped her and she buried her face in his shirt.

"You know something?"

"What?" she asked softly, closing her eyes in sleepiness and contentment.

"You have a Southern accent," he stated bluntly.

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Well, yeah, I'm from Tennessee."

"But I can hear it more when you're tired. I think—I think you try to hide it," he concluded. "You shouldn't do that."

"Why not?" she mumbled.

"Because it sounds pretty. And it reminds me of—"

Her eyes snapped open. "Of who?" she demanded.

"Well—um—" Oliver stuttered unsurely. "I—I don't know."

She let out a small breath of relief and shut her eyes again, happy that after all the time he'd spent with Hannah so far, her secret was still safe.

But Oliver did know who her accent reminded him of.

It reminded him of Miley.

A/N: Well, there you have it. Hope it was worth the wait, and that it didn't suck, and you guys like it enough to leave me as many wonderful reviews as last chapter. :)

And another quick shout out to Drew before I go: I hope this was even worthy of being dedicated to you. You're the most amazing friend ever. I don't deserve to have you in my life and I consider myself the luckiest person on earth because I do. I really, really hope you liked this as much as you liked Chapter 12. And did you notice the inside joke? ;D Or is your memory too bad to remember that conversation...hmm... xD Ily. :)