Addicted z.m

Chapter 6

The spacing is a little out of whack for some for most of you guys because I typed this on Microsoft Word instead of using my phone like I usually do. I gave up my phone for Lent (A Catholic holiday in which you sacrifice one thing in your daily life for forty days leading up to Easter in return for the forty days and nights Jesus suffered leading up to his death and resurrection *Sorry if some or most of you are not Christian and think I'm not fit or something. I do not discriminate against other religions. One of my best friends is a Muslim and another is Atheist. Nothing but love coming from up in here!*)

I expected his eyes to widen just a millimetre, or his lips to part just a centimetre. Instead, when he lifted his head at the sound of me approaching, he smiled a goofy smile.

"You've gotten a lot girlier in the past year," he said.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Is that a compliment?"

He laughed and pulled me close to greet me with a kiss on the cheek. "You look beautiful, Love," he complimented. "Are you ready?"

Before I could answer, he grabbed a hold of my hand and pulled me away from the fountain he had been waiting by. He soon let my hand go when the parking lot came into view.

No, I thought to myself when he pressed a button on his key and the lights of a silver Mercedes flashed on. I was never really into cars so I couldn't tell you what specific model it was, but it was more expensive than some 2001 Mercedes Benz that's for sure.

"Where the hell did you get the money for this?" I gaped, stepping up to the passenger side.

He wore that same goofy smile when he met my eyes from the opposite side of the car. "It's been a busy year." He winked before opening his door and getting in.

I huffed out an unsatisfied sigh then copied his actions. It looked even more expensive from the inside.

"Do you realise this car probably costs about as much as I saved up to get into this school?" I stared at him.

"I didn't want it. Amenoff bought it for me," he shrugged.

"Who's Amenoff?" I scrunched up my face in confusion.

"Basically my manager, but that's a story we'll save for dinner. Shall we?" He started the car and it purred to life, unlike Tiffany's '96 Camry that doesn't even roar. It just growls, hacks, and coughs, like a lion with a chest cold.

"Go ahead," he smiled at mean. "Lean the seat back. You're not going to dent the car if you move, Love."

I did as he said, and as I reclined my seat, I found myself flashing back to old times and comparing those memories to now.

"I miss the old car," I decided. "It's strange looking up at you from this angle. I'm on the wrong side of the car."

"Blame America, not me," he smirked. "Your right side of the road thing was really frustrating, I'm surprised I survived."

"In New York, there's not much driving to worry about," I pointed out. "Plus I'm sure you had chauffeurs driving you everywhere. You had nothing to worry about."

"Hey, I drove," he defended. "I would drive down to DC and meet Perrie if I forgot to book a flight."

I faked an exaggerated gasp. "So you're telling me you don't have a private jet? How do you live?!"

"You're cute, you know that?" he said sarcastically.

"So I've been told."

Not too long later we were pulling up to some restaurant I couldn't pronounce, which was already a red flag.