She ran straight up to his window, knocking on the dark-tinted glass. He watched her with a subtle, amused grin on his lips.
What on earth got her so excited? He couldn't, for the life of him, think of anything that could have stirred him more than the frantic, almost damaging knocks on his window.
"Get out of the fucking car!" she mouthed.
Oooooh, he whistled. Did she just cuss?
He pulled out his phone and called her.
"Get out of the fucking car, Laz, or I'm going to break the freaking glass!"
This threat stirred something hot in him. This was the Frida he knew, the crazy one.
Not the quiet, shy woman she showed everyone else, but the wild girl he had lost his mind to at a young age.
The real her.
Not the act EVERYONE ELSE KNOWS, including you...
He thought this while staring at her with a smirk.
"Step away from the glass, Frida," he drawled darkly. She took a few tentative steps back, which only excited him more. Such a good girl.
