Whats Love Got to do With it?: An Arranged Marriage to a Stranger

Arranged Marriage to a Stranger (9)

Ok, so first I want to give a big THANK YOU to everyone who has voted and commented and followed my story, you guys rock, and because of you I've seen myself on the "Most Popular" writers thing on wattpad a couple of times, which I personally think is pretty cool. So here's a nice long post for you guys as thanks, enjoy! Oh, by the way, I want everyone to go to youtube and listen to the song 'meet me half way' by the black eyed peas if you haven't heard it yet. I'm addicted to it, and it was the inspiration for this post, i listened to it the entire time i wrote.

Chapter 9

I was under the covers, I would say, for about twenty minutes before my mother burst into the bedroom and ripped the blanket off of me, exposing me to the harsh coldness of both the room and her fury.

"Carmella, what are you doing in our room, nonetheless sleeping in our bed?"

"Um, I had a bad dream." That sounded believable to me.

"Carmella, do you honestly think your mother is that stupid?"

Yes. "No."

"Now, get out of the bed and go back to the guest house if you want to sleep, your father and I want to take a nap before dinner, so out!" My mother shrieked. Argh, why can't I be five again, then the nightmare excuse would have totally worked. "Fine" I mumbled, before grudgingly getting out of her bed and leaving the room.

As I walked back towards the guest house I slowly began to hyperventilate. Though I will admit I kind of, sort of enjoyed myself today with Ezra, I am also completely appalled at the fact that I swapped spit with that gorilla on steroids. By the look he gave me before leaving, I'm pretty sure Ezra reciprocates the feeling. When I finally got to the guest house I stopped and stood outside the front door, contemplating whether I should go in or not. On the one hand, I knew if I didn't find a bed within the next five minutes I would pass out right here on the grass. On the other hand, if I try to sneak back into the beach house my mother would probably put me on diaper duty until my nephew is potty trained. I looked down at the ground, the grass didn't look so bad, so I began to sit down on the lawn when, of course, the sprinklers go off. I sighed, the guest house it is then. 

Luck seemed to be on my side as I walked through the guest house, I had managed to completely avoid running into Ezra, and I couldn't help but hope that my good luck would last long enough to get me to my room. Am I ever that lucky? 

As I was making my way down one of the hallways, I could hear a light grunting coming from one of the rooms. The farther down the hallway I got the easier I could hear the grunting. I started to get a little panicky, if Ezra was screwing some girl in his room I really didn't want to see, hear or know about it.

The last door on the right was slightly open and I knew that was the room Ezra was in. I couldn't decide if I wanted to look in or not; part of me did because frankly, I was curious, but part of me didn't, because even though there is nothing emotionally there between Ezra and myself, the thought of him doing "things" with other girls kind of bothered me. What the hell is wrong with me?

I sucked it up and peered into the room, and you'll never guess what I saw.

Nothing at all, well nothing bad anyway. In fact, I kind of enjoyed the view. The room wasn't Ezra's bedroom but his gym, and Ezra wasn't screwing some girl on his bed mercilessly, like how I imagine he would (not that I think about doing it with him), but was doing pull ups on a bar hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room. It was amazing... oh god, am I drooling? Eww.

After I wiped the spit off my lower lip I leaned in closer to the door. Ezra was still doing pull ups but he was going much faster now. I could hear him counting out loud and I think I heard him say 587?!? I was gone for like twenty five minutes, tops, how did he do so many so quick? When he got to six hundred he let go and dropped to the ground, pulling a towel off of a nearby workbench and wiping the sweat from his face and body. I was about to turn and leave, since things got boring now that he wasn't working out anymore, but he started mumbling something to himself. At first I thought he saw me and was talking to me, and I wont lie I was about to bolt from the doorway, but I soon realized he was talking to himself. Great, my fiancé is psycho.... I guess I could live with that if he promises never to wear a shirt.