hard » m. phelps

XII|Clarisse

When we went back home, we were surprised to see a black Range Rover parked next to the lot that belonged to Michael's Mercedes.

"Has Ryan said anything about coming over?" I asked him with a confused look.

"No, I bet I would know if Ryan turned into my ex," he mumbled under his breath before cursing.

Indeed, when we walked up to the front porch, there was a girl standing on his doorstep.

Michael cleared his throat, and the girl sent him an annoyed expression.

"Hello, Natalie," he greeted with an awkward nod of the head.

The girl turned around, and had she not looked furious, I would've sent her a few dirty looks.

She was really tall, just a couple of inches shorter than Michael, and despite being very thin, she had all the right curves in all the right places. Her white lace crop top and black mini skirt accentuated her flawless body's edges, and her perfectly made eye makeup made her green eyes pop. She had a perfect pale skin tone, not a blemish in sight. Her long black hair flowed like a waterfall on her shoulders, and her lips put mine to shame–sorry, to shit.

I immediately disliked her for no apparent reason. Just because.

"I've been standing here for half an hour! I didn't know you were out," she snapped at him.

I narrowed my eyes at her. Who did this girl think she is, lashing out on Michael.

"Excuse me, honey, maybe if you had looked in the parking space, you would notice that he was out. Oh wait, even if you looked, you wouldn't notice, you're that stupid," I had my hand on my hips.

I was on a roll now.

She paid attention to me, and raked her eyes all over me. Sizing me up made me feel uncomfortable, but I stood my ground.

"Who's your new slut, Michael?" she sneered.

Oh no, she didn't!

"S'cuse me, Natalie, but the only slut here is you," he replied coolly, as he tightened his grip around me and gave my hips a reassuring squeeze.

She rolled her eyes, probably too stupid to notice the insult.

"I came here to get my clothes."

I was about to go and get them, just to leave those two cool things down, when Michael spoke.

"I'll go get them," he offered.

No. Hell to the fucking no.

He is no way going to leave me to this she-devil.

But he did anyways.

As soon as he went upstairs, she whipped around at me and let loose a snarl.

"I don't know how a pathetic fugly nobody like you got him wrapped around your filthy finger, but Michael is mine. Back off of him, or else there will be consequences," she hissed, pure anger radiating from her like heat.

I was genuinely terrified, so I nodded quickly at her before retreating to look at Michael's looming figure.

He handed her a bunch of underwear, and a few flannels.

I recovered from the shock, and gave Michael a look. I was pretty sure that she had way more clothes in her wardrobe than what he just gave her.

"And?" she snapped.

"I assume that you are hinting to the fact that I left the rest of your clothes inside. No, they are not your clothes anymore, so I suggest that you get back off our lawn, or else you'll find your back snapped in half," he stated hotly, his jaw tenseing up as he gritted his teeth.