minute three.

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"so much for not hating me, wheeler." she said, smiling.

"same to you, mayfield."

they stood across from each other, and she moved closer so that they were almost touching.

"is this the part where we make out?" she asked him.

"you're obsessed with that, aren't you?"

"yeah, because i'm such a slut." she said sarcastically.

"you talk too much." he replied, breathless.

"shut me up and kiss me, then." she challenged.

"i just might," he said, grabbing her waist. she stopped breathing.

there was a pause.

"wow, maybe mike wheeler isn't the worst at this."

"wow, maybe max mayfield should stop acting all high and mighty."

he still hadn't let go of her.

"oh, am i?"

"yeah, you show up to the party and you make it miserable for me."

"i barely talked to you!"

"exactly."

"what?"

"i'm miserable because you're not mine." and his lips collided with hers.

seven minutes- madwheelerWhere stories live. Discover now