Undercover Heiress

Part Fifty-Two

Chapter FIfty-Three: I have blue balls pt. 2

Elise's friend Dave, drove us back to Portland where I gave him the directions for my family's private airport.

From there, Peter and I safely board the jet and just as it was taking off the black SUVs had finally caught up and found us.

Both Peter and I were not harmed once we were in the seats of the jet. Dave, however, got shot driving away.

Guilty by association was all I could think about.

"Better him than you," Peter calls, and I look up at his figure sitting across from me.

He shrugs, picking up his Cocacola can and taking a sip.

My mouth hung open and I felt hurt by his statement, "Are you trying to justify a good man's death who helped us escape?"

Peter made a face at me, "He was a drug dealer, Amelia, the guy risks his life for a living,"

True.

What bothered me was the fact that he was the first to go out of everyone who had been helping me.

This meant that all of Peter's friends, Holly, even fucking Elise were probably going to die.

"Where are we going?" Peter asks.

I bite my lower lip, staring at my feet and noticing I was still in shorts and a tank top with no bra and hard nips.

"Uh, back to my hometown," I tell him, adjusting my posture and crossing my arms to cover my boobs.

"Why?" He inquires.

I roll my eyes, not really in the mood to deal with more questions because I was annoyed and frustrated.

"Because that's where everyone else is and we have a wedding to attend," I answer.

Peter furrows his brows.

"Who's wedding?" 

Omfg.

"Our wedding," I respond.

That's right.

If we are going to be where my family and his family were, we might as well get married for no damn reason other than the fact that we wouldn't have any witnesses with all of them getting murdered.

"Why are we getting married?"

Again with the questions...

"Why not?" I ask, biting the insides of my cheeks and combing some loose strands of hair out of my face.

"Do you not want to marry me?" 

"No, I do! It's just, why now? We aren't even dating," He explains.

I purse my lips before taking off my seatbelt quickly and taking one step before placing myself on his lap, straddling him.

Why were we always in this position?

"We don't have to date to get married, we could just be madly in love with each other and talking for a month and I could propose," I tell him, smiling as my hands make their way to his shoulders.

Peter is in complete shock at what's going on in this moment, and I take my time messing with his head, trailing my finger across his chest and biting my lower lip.

"I- I- I havent even proposed to you yet?" He stutters.

I chuckled, hopping off of his lap and sitting next to him, buckling my seatbelt.