Addicted

Chapter 64.

I stepped inside the house, hauling my dress high above me in a black garment bag, and holing my shoes in a shoe box underneath my other arm and the bags that I retrieved of underwear and jewellery in my hand.

I struggle to open the door, with both of my arms, occupied. Just as I was about to drop the shoes, Emmett opened the front door for me.

"Let me help you," Emmett says, opening the door wide and trying to take my shoes.

"Well, aren't you lovely," I tell him.

"I know," he says, making me laugh.

He helps me take the shoes to my room and I open my closet to put my dress in.

"Is that for Zac's birthday party?" Emmett asks.

"Yes."

"Is it dressy?" he asks with his eyebrows raised.

"I think it is," I respond.

"Okay, well, we went to his place last year and let me just say, if you think you dress is dressy, then try and make it even dressier."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I ask. As if I wasn't nervous already, Emmett's words, only fuelled that nervous fire.

"It means what I say."

"Did you go last year?" I ask.

"Yep..."

"And?"

"And it was nice," he says, but there was something in his voice as if he didn't want to say too much.

"But?"

"But what?"

"Is there a 'but'?"

"No 'but'?"

"Then what the hell are you hiding?" I ask as he walks out of my room and I follow him.

"Nothing, I just hope you'll dress up."

I beyond frustrated at this point.

"Just fucking tell me!" I softly shouted, but he continued to walk away from me, so the only logical thing to do was jump on him. With Emmett being so tall, it was no easy task, but years of practice have now made me an expert. I wrapped my arms around his neck and with all my might I pushed myself off of the floor, dragging myself down so he was forced to bend backwards.

"ALI! FOR FUCK SAKE!" he groans.

"TELL ME!"

"I'M SAYING NOTHING!"

I wrap my legs around his torso, and with the extra weight on his body he falls down to the ground.

"WHAT ARE YOU HIDING?"

"NOTHINGGG!" he shouts back and we both laugh.

On the floor now, I've managed to weave my way on his torso, taking his fat wrists into my tiny hands and playfully smack his face with them.

"Why are you hitting yourself? Stop hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself? Stop hitting yourself?" I taunted after each hit.

"Are you done?" he asks.

"No," I respond, playful fear lacing my voice.

"I think you're done," he announces and flips me over so now I'm on the floor. Of course, Emmett being twice the size of me and extra strong, this was easy for him.

I screamed when he bagan doing the same thing to me as if did to him. His large fingers curling around my wrists and began smacking myself in the face.