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"We really have to stop meeting like this, Serena." Michael's deep, alluring voice filters into my ears. I take a deep breath, meeting his gaze. My legs wobble slightly.
I scoff, not saying a word to him. I crouched to the floor to gather the items scattered on the tarred road. He imitates my posture, reaching for a tube of whipped cream.
"Get your hands off my things!" I yell.
I hate this. It's so triggering. It's like reliving the memory of the first time we met. I am no damsel in distress. I don't need his help.
My tone catches him off guard. I rise to my feet.
"I don't need your help, Michael. I was fine on my own. I had it all under control!" I snap. He stares at me and scoffs in mockery.
"Sure, you had it under control." He shoots back at me sarcastically.
"Why are you even here? Are you stalking me?" I query him, squinting my eyes at him. My question feels like a whiplash to him because he stares at me in disbelief.
"What?!"
"Now, I am stalking you? How does saving your life equate to me stalking you? Do you know what could have happened to you if I didn't show up?" He demands, stepping forward. His masculine cologne slaps my nostrils.
"Get off your high horse, Serena, and stop acting like a fucking child!" He bellows.
"Well, you slept with this child, remember?!" I yell back at him, chuckling humorlessly afterward.
"Oh,"
"Still hung up on that night, huh?" He chuckles coldly. His words hit me like a pang in my chest. I walk forward, masking my hurt. I stop right before him, jabbing my finger at his chest.
"No, I am not. I got over it. You should, too, stop following me around like a damn puppy." I spit out venomously. His frown deepens. He will say something to me, but I cut him off.
"Go to hell," I whisper, walking away from him and abandoning my grocery bags.
"Serena! Get back here!" He shouts at me, calling me incessantly, but I don't listen. I walk as far away from him as possible. I break into a run after a while.
I don't stop running until I get into the confines of my home. I run upstairs and dash into my room, shutting the door behind me. I slam my back against the wall, my lips quivering as I slid off the door.
I can't hold it in anymore. I break down into tears.
Fuck! Why am I so emotional?
Chapter 6
A Bad Idea
Michael
Stalker?I scoff.
I can’t believe Serena is accusing me of stalking her. It’s absurd.
I get it. Meeting me again wasn't exactly a part of Serena's plan, but it wasn’t a part of my plan, either. I'm not some crazy stalker! I just happened to be in the neighborhood, and all I did was try to save her from a very dangerous situation.
She could have said ‘Thank you’ instead of calling me ‘Stalker’….
I scoff again.
And despite my protests, she still doesn’t listen to me.
I know I'm not supposed to be bothered by it, but it gets on my nerve.
