Falling Forbidden (Unfinished)

10 The Strangest Bachelorette Party

Adam

"Really?" Selena's eyes sparkle.

Please, lord. Please. At least let me drink my coffee. I'm simply begging you.

"Aw..." She fakes disappointment at whatever her friend says on the phone, rubbing her forehead." That's so sweet of you..." She clenches her jaw. "Thank you..."

"Is everything okay?" I ask.

She covers the phone. "She's asking if I want to have a bachelorette party..."

"Why don't you tell her you don't want to?"

"Well..." She laughs, looking away. "Unfortunately, I have a 6'5 male specie watching me like a hawk. That's not a bachelorette party. I don't want to be monitored."

I keep my gaze on her and pace straight towards her, leaving her with no choice but to pay attention. "You're not being monitored. You're being watched. There's a clear difference."

"Imaan? Let me call you back." She hangs up and gives me a cold look. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

Huh? What does she mean?

"Don't you dare use your size to intimidate me. I'll kick you in the nuts so hard, you'll be on your knees for hours, understand?"

"Did you forget to take your medicine? Because I don't understand a word of what you just said."

"Yeah, yeah. Keep that innocent confusion for someone who believes it. I smell manipulation from a mile away. Try a little harder."

Jesus Christ, my back is starting to ache from stress.

"I'm not manipulating you..." I force myself to take a deep breath. Focus. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intimidate you."

"Yeah, you did." She smirks at me under her lashes. "Regardless, apology still accepted."

I click my tongue, looking away from her. Cheeky brat. I don't know whether I want to squeeze her or strangle her. She switches from being a cute, tiny little thing to an annoying demon.

"I'm a lot smarter than you thought, aren't I?" She turns to go back to her bedroom, lifting her chin high. "I'm the fuuull package. Yeah!"

Thankfully, I don't see her for the rest of the day until it's evening. She comes out of her room, now changed to go out.

She's in baggy jeans with one thigh ripped out, and a red long-sleeve, exposing her shoulders. Her black hair is full and curled, falling around her delicate face and cascading over her breasts. The last thing I notice are her white sneakers. They're over four inches high and spotless.

We're silent all the way to the garage, but I notice she's sneaking glances at me the whole time.

"Am I allowed to sit next to you?" she asks.

"If you feel comfortable." Please don't sit next to me.

"Good." She sighs in relief. "I hate the pretentious nature of sitting in the back. It makes me feel like you're a bus driver."

"I thought I looked sexy."

"W-what?"

I reach over her and open the passenger door. "Get in."

"Thank you!" She jumps in.

That's a good girl.

She buckles up as I slide on the driver's side. I start the car, the purr of the engine music to my ears. I haven't driven for five days. I haven't left the house for five days. I don't know how she lives like that. I want to kill myself.