A whirlwind romance neither one was prepared for đ
As the music changes to a slower beat, the guy moves closer to me. Before I can even move back from him, Phil has moved in between us and I feel Valentineâs hand in mine. Iâm pulled away from the group so fast that my head spins, and it takes a moment to focus.
Valentineâs face is ashen. I havenât seen this look before. âCome on, weâre leaving,â he shouts over the music, pulling me behind him without looking back at me.
âWhat? Why?â I shout at him. He doesnât answer me.
âSam, Iâll call you tomorrow and you can bring me to get the bike?â
âYeah, man âfor sure! Be good, sis,â he shouts out over the music with a grin.
I can feel my temper rising. The cold early-morning air makes my head spin, as we step out onto the street.
Valentine leads me to a taxi, opens the door and guides me in. âWatch your head,â he says as he slides in next to me and leans over to put on my seat belt.
âI can manage my own seatbelt,â I say, starting to feel really annoyed. Heâs dragged me from my friends âand my brother âfor what?
âI want to make sure itâs on properly,â he says flatly. Heâs really annoyed too, but why? He doesnât sound like Valentine.
âWhere are you going?â says the taxi driver, looking at Valentine through his rear vision mirror.
â22 Copper Ave, Lathlain,â he answers, not taking his eyes from me, doing up my seat belt.
âWhatâs wrong with you?â I say, trying my best to sound compliant. I really donât like to see him upset. And I hate conflict.
âThat guy was hitting on you,â he says calmly, as the taxi pulls out onto the road.
The driver flicks on the heater and turns the radio up a little âprobably so he doesnât appear to be listening to our argument.
âSo we leave, because a drunk guy was dancing nearby?â I keep my own voice low. Itâs an honest question.
âHe was dancing very close to you and his eyes were all over you,â Valentine explains, as though he is explaining why we use an umbrella when it rains.
âPhil came close to me so the guy would back off. I didnât need you to pull me away like Iâd done something wrong.â
âYou did nothing wrong, Abbie,â he says.
Now I know Iâm in trouble âAbbie âwhat happened to Princess? He takes a long breath and takes hold of my hand. âIâm sorry âI just donât like it,â he adds, as though this clarifies everything. âIt was all under control.â
âNo it wasnât âwhat if heâd hurt you?â âHe wasnât even very close âand Phil was there!â âWhere I come from, we settle things differently,â he snaps.
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
He sighs and speaks lower. âIn my neighbourhood, if a man mistreated a girl, heâd be dealt with before the police even had a chance to arrest him. Iâve been boxing since I was ten and Iâve been fighting for survival since I could walk. Iâm sorry, but instinct sometimes gets the better of me and I try to avoid situations where I may be forced to kill a manââ
âYouâd kill a man, because he dances near me?â âIâd kill a bull for you,â he says flatly.
I canât believe heâs being so serious. âHe was just dancing near me! You canât go around beating people up for dancing too close to your girlfriend!â Iâm so angry that my voice is getting louder.
âIâm sorry, Princess,â he whispers and squeezes my hand. âI will not share you, even with another manâs eyes or thoughts.â
Whoa! Now hereâs a revelation. Does he want to hide me in a tower somewhere? This doesnât sound like my Valentine at all. âYou canât wrap me up in cotton wool,â I shout at him, a little too loudly. He flicks his eyes to the front of the car briefly to see if the taxi driver heard but then looks back down at my fingers entwined through his. âAnd I left my rose behind,â I add, realising I left my rose on the bar with my drink.
‘I can get you another roseââ
âI donât want another damn rose, I want you to not behave like a teenager,â I snap.
âI want to be the beginning and end of your world âwith no exceptions. And I donât want other men looking at youââ
âI canât stop people from looking at me⊠even though they arenât anyway âyouâre not flattering me with this behaviour,â I say.
Thereâs silence for a few minutes; except for the song playing on the radio. Radioheadâs Creep. I love this song. Valentine is my creep, and I love him.
âI know I canât stop them from looking âI was being silly. I just donât know how Iâm going to cope with you being so damn beautiful and me feeling this way. This is all very new to me âforgive me, Princess?â he smiles.
I manage to smile at him, but Iâm still mad.
âGood, now letâs go home and make up,â he grins at me wolfishly. How can I stay mad?
†Infinite Completion ~ Amazon link: