Sorry it's so short! :( I'm in the middle of exams, and have to go study Chemistry now. But hope you like it anyway! <3
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Esther never came home that night, but that was hardly cause for worry. I slept deeply and much better than I had all week, and I was in the middle of a wonderful dream involving Angel on a unicorn.
Loud knocking sounded and I ignored it, stuffing my head under the pillow. It persisted and I cracked an eye open, quite peeved to be awoken. Dragging myself out of bed, I refused to feel sorry for Esther, who was most likely stranded on the other side of the door, frantically knocking because she lost her clothes somewhere last night.
Flinging open the door, I fully expected to see tousled golden hair and remorseful brown eyes, but instead I got tousled black hair and not at all remorseful, blue eyes.
My jaw and I stared at Adam who still had a fist in the air, about to knock again.
“Memfuzik,” I grunted in shock, still half-asleep.
I realized I was in my transparent t-shirt and underwear at about the same time that Adam noticed. Grabbing the door with both hands, I slammed it a second time in Adam’s face and heard a martyred sigh from the other side.
Rushing to the pile of clothes that I hadn’t bothered to stuff back into the closet, I grabbed a silky wrap-around robe before stalking over back to the door and opening it in a much more controlled manner.
Adam leaned on the opposite wall, arms crossed, looking utterly annoyed. He sent me a flat look and I swallowed; his good looks were a bit much to take, this early in the morning.
“What are you doing here?” I hissed, clutching my robe around me tighter.
He glanced up at the ceiling as though requesting patience from a Divine Power. “It’s Friday,” he said bluntly.
I cocked an eyebrow. “No,” I gasped with huge sarcasm, “Really?”
“If you’re looking to make a first impression, that’ll certainly work,” Adam ignored me, instead his gaze raking up and down my body. I flushed, wrapping my arms around my chest.
“Excuse me,” I said in a dignified voice, “I’m not ready. Speaking of impressions, I thought you’d be picking me up at seven this evening, not at the crack of dawn.”
Adam shook his head, jaw clenched. “I said I’d pick you up at seven, I didn’t necessarily say it was in the evening.”
I stared at him, mouth hanging open. “You can’t expect me to be ready at seven in the morning!” I exclaimed, “I’m barely even conscious!”
“It’s how I like you best,” Adam muttered under his breath. “Now get ready, it’s five past seven. We’re going to be late.”
“Late for what?” I demanded, “How on earth can you humanly be late for something at seven in the morning?”
But, since Adam usually got his way, fifteen minutes later I found myself sulkily dragging my suitcase as I followed him to the elevator.
Panting, I heaved the huge bag and flipped the stray curls out of my eyes, pausing to bestow a scowl at Adam. The egotistical bastard hadn’t even offered to help me with my luggage, and instead he was coolly watching me struggle with it.
May his manhood shrivel and die.
“How can you possibly need all of that for one night?” he asked, pointing.
I glared, re-tying my ponytail. “I have to be prepared for just about everything, since you wouldn’t tell me where we were going!”
Adam smirked. “It’ll just be dinner, and walks in the estates.”
I fumed. Now he tells me. “Just walks in the estates,” I mimicked under my breath. This kid was so used to rolling in money. Well I hope he drowns in it.
The elevator gave a ding and slid open. Adam strolled in, not bothering to hold the door open while I wrestled the bag into the lift. The doors nearly closed on me, squashing the life out of my body and it was only a lucky kick that saved me from becoming little bits of Shawna tiling the floor.
“Tell me,” I growled, bodily manoeuvring in, “Were you born an arrogant jerk, or is it an acquired process?”
“Tell me,” Adam drawled in return, “Did you idolize Pinocchio when you were a kid?”
I stared at him in complete confusion until it hit me, that Adam had given me his favourite jab – about me being a liar.
“Why do you care so much?” I demanded angrily. This was getting really annoying.
“Babe, I’m a carefree guy,” Adam told me. “I don’t care as long as it’s free. But since you’re not free, that entails certain privileges.”
Like harassing me.
I huffed. “You’re such a – lemon.”
I didn’t know where that came from, but since Adam didn’t know, either, it was awhile before he could respond.
“Why am I a lemon?” he looked genuinely confused.
I stared up at the descending numbers and ignored him. We were only on the eighth floor.
When the doors finally slid open, I reached over to Adam, grabbing his finger and jabbing it on the button that said ‘doors open.’ He gave me an annoyed look, but kept it there.
Chin held high, I marched out of the elevator, dragging my suitcase and set off to towards the garage. It occurred to me sometime later that I didn’t know what kind of car Adam drove, but I didn’t let that bother me.
I kept right on marching to the brightest, most expensive car in the lot: a silver Porsche Carrera GT.
Adam followed leisurely behind, flicking his remote button and lounging against his hood as I heaved, trying to stuff my things into his trunk.
“How did you know this one was mine?”
I finally managed it, slamming the trunk down and successfully making Adam wince.
“Because it’s loud and obnoxious, and screams money, just like its owner,” I snapped.
“Ouch,” he muttered sarcastically.
“Let’s go.”
I slid into the passenger seat and moments later, Adam was beside me, now looking amused. He revved the engine and we peeled out smoothly. I desperately tried not to like his car, but it was proving really difficult.
What a gorgeous car. Imagine riding in this every frickin’ day. Whoever became Adam’s girlfriend would be one lucky girl.
I froze. Blasphemy. What had I just thought? I should be pitying the poor girl, instead of envying her. A thousand Porsches wouldn’t make Adam any more tolerable.
I think I said the last bit out loud, because Adam gave me an irked glance. “You’re insufferable,” he muttered under his breath.
“Then in the future, how about staying away from me?” I suggested, glad to help.
“I’ve been staying away from you all week! You think I enjoy running into you?”
I thought about how much I would enjoy running into him. With a car. The thought of squashing Adam flat cheered me up hugely, and I spent several happy minutes picturing his funeral.
Only in Adam’s case, we’d have to bury him face-down. So he could see where he was going.
Chuckling at the expression Adam would make if I’d said that out loud, I turned around to see him glaring at me.
Oh. That had been out loud. I clamped a hand over my mouth, terrified of what he could do to me, even with both hands on the wheel.
See, this is what happens when I’m not properly awake. I lose track of what I say and what I think. It’s like I lose control of keeping my thoughts to myself, and---
“Would you just shut up already? You’ve got, like, word diarrhoea or something!” a pained Adam finally demanded.
I sighed.
I turned to watch the scenery flashing by as Adam effortlessly guided the car along winding, secluded roads. A placid lake rose on our left, and I noticed just how this looked like a perfect Porsche commercial.
Appearances can be deceiving, because I wasn’t here on a romantic getaway with Adam. Though I certainly wouldn’t have minded getting away.