Falling In Love with Mr. Motherf**ker

The Birthday, the Car, and Mr. Motherfucker

Clara's POV

Waking up with a headache wasn't exactly my idea of a great birthday. The shower didn't help either, but it took the edge off. By the time I stumbled into the kitchen, all I wanted was a quiet moment with some coffee. I should've known better.

"GOOD MORNING VIETNAM!" Jake's voice thundered from across the room. His laughter followed, filling the space like he hadn't just shattered the last bit of peace I had.

"Shut up," I groaned, squinting at him. "Why do you insist on making my mornings hell?"

"Excuse my rudeness, dear sister," Jake said, his voice dripping with mock politeness. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BITCH!" Before I could protest, he hit play on his phone, blasting the most obnoxious version of the 'Happy Birthday' song I'd ever heard.

"Thanks... I guess?" I muttered, trying to smile. Then Jake pulled me into a bear hug that nearly knocked the wind out of me.

"Close your eyes," he instructed after letting go, a sly grin on his face. I did as told, half expecting a prank. "Okay, open up."

I blinked my eyes open, and there he stood, holding two cool blue Gatorades like they were the Holy Grail. I burst into laughter. "Really, Jake? This is my birthday present?"

"Considering the state you came home in last night, this is the best gift I could think of," he said with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes but couldn't stop the smile tugging at my lips. "Thanks, big bro."

"Now, since you owe me for the Gatorade," I began, trying to sound nonchalant, "can you give me a ride to the bar? I left my laptop there."

Jake crossed his arms, pretending to consider it. "Why don't you drive yourself for once?"

"Uh, because I don't have a car? Stop messing with me," I said, tossing a pillow at him.

His expression shifted, turning into a grin that only meant trouble. He reached into his pocket and tossed something at me. Reflexively, I caught it. Car keys.

"Wait—what?!" I stared at him, wide-eyed.

"Did you really think I'd only get you Gatorade for your eighteenth birthday? Are you dumb?" Jake laughed.

I didn't know whether to cry or scream, so I did both. "I hate you!" I smacked him lightly before pulling him into another hug, my emotions all over the place.

After pulling away, I quickly composed myself. "That's enough hugging for the month. I've got places to be." I grabbed my purse, cigs, and lighter, shooting Jake a playful glare before heading out the door.

Outside, a brand-new Hyundai Ioniq gleamed in the sunlight. It was the exact car I'd been talking about for months. I pointed the keys at it and hit the unlock button, watching the lights blink in response. Squealing, I ran toward it and slid into the driver's seat, inhaling the intoxicating scent of new leather.

Before taking off, I snapped a quick pic for Instagram. "Best bro ever," I captioned it, grinning like a fool. Then, I decided to check my messages. Four new ones.

Stacey: Biiiitch, what are we doing today?

I smiled. She never missed a beat.

Mr. Motherfucker: I'm sober, and the question's still in.

Wait, WHAT? My heart skipped a beat. Was he serious?

Me: What question?

Why was I playing dumb?

Mr. Motherfucker: You coming over? Movie night?

This was not real life. What was I getting myself into?

Me: Uh... sure. What time?

Mr. Motherfucker: 7 p.m. sound good?

I stared at the screen, my stomach doing flips. This didn't sound good at all.

Me: I'll bring sushi.

What was I thinking? Just then, my phone rang. Stacey. Oh God, she could never know.

I paired the phone to my car and called her back. "Hey," I answered, trying to sound casual.

"YOU'RE COMING TO PICK ME UP, AND WE'RE GOING FOR A RIDE RIGHT NOW!" she yelled. "Since when do you have a car?"

"Jake bought it for me. Long story. Anyway, I was supposed to grab my stuff from the bar but screw it. Be outside in ten."

Mark's POV

This was a terrible idea.

What was I thinking, inviting Clara over? I tried to calm myself, but the thought of seeing her again made my heart race.

Last night kept playing in my mind. That Jason guy... there was something off about him. He seemed controlling, aggressive. I'd have to talk to Clara about it. But not today. Today, I'd keep things light.

Friendly. This was just a friendly movie night, nothing more. Right?

Clara's POV

Stacey and I were at our favorite café, sipping lattes and enjoying the quiet when she dropped a bomb.

"You owe me fifty bucks," she said casually, taking a bite of her croissant.

"Huh?" I blinked at her.

"Technically, a hundred. But you can give Mr. James his fifty directly."

I nearly choked on my coffee. "I'll give you free rides for a month," I bargained, trying to deflect.

"Still gotta pay Mr. James his share," Stacey teased, a wicked grin on her face.

I groaned. "Oh my God, stop with the Mr. James talk. I'll combust if I hear his name one more time—"

Ding. A message. Oh no, his timing was impeccable.

Stacey's eyes narrowed. "Who's texting you?"

"Your dad," I shot back. "He's asking me to ditch you and come over."

Her face twisted in mock horror. "Don't even joke about that, Clara!"

I checked my phone. It was already 7 p.m.

Mr. Motherfucker: You coming right?

Crap. I was late.

Me: Sushi's on the way. What's the address?

I knew I was playing with fire, but it was too late to back out now.

After a few more minutes of teasing Stacey, I excused myself, claiming I had something important to take care of. Her parting words were a threat of physical violence if I got anywhere near her dad. Laughing, I ran out of the café and sped toward Mark's place, meeting the Uber Eats guy as I parked.

This was happening.

As soon as I rang his doorbell, Mark answered, dressed casually in sweats and an undone zip-up hoodie. I hadn't fully realized how athletic he was until now.

He pulled me into a hug. And suddenly, the world felt like it was spinning just a little faster. His scent—a mix of cigar, apples, and something else intoxicating—made my knees weak. What the hell was I doing?

I pulled away quickly, my heart racing. "Hey," I muttered awkwardly, holding up the sushi bag like a shield. "Dinner's served."

And just like that, the night began.