Illegal My Ass

Chapter 12- 'Well done Mia, you beat the crap out of an old guy.'

A/N: So since i wrote that message to you guys and got like a 100 repies in about 5 minutes saying you want these guys to stay as Crude as they are, I've decided fuck Wattpad. this story can stay R rated cos i have amazing readers already! thank you so much and i hope you enjoy :)

MIA POV

Lies.

That always seemed to be Drake O’Connell’s first language.

As soon as he stormed through the living room into the kitchen with that thunderous look in his eyes I knew something was seriously wrong. Drake was a man to get angry about once every blue moon, most of the time he took things on the chin and laughed at them.

When something actually managed to anger him, you knew it was serious.

And normally when it was serious, he would do his usual deal and keep it bottled inside.

I didn’t really hear much of the conversation apart from the last bit about telling someone’s boss to blow him. I was seriously debating on slapping his senses back to him; I could tell he was struggling to find a job and the one offer he did get by the sounds of it he turned down. With his ever so colourful vocabulary.

It was probably some sort of job that would hurt his ego, like working in McDonalds or something.

Idiot.

I shook my head at his explanation. If you could even call that pile of steamy bullshit an explanation.

“One of these days Drake I will manage to get some honesty out of you.” I tell him as I walk to the fridge, opening it and pulling out the beer I came into the kitchen to get for Garry in the first place.

I was just about to shut the fridge door when suddenly a hand wrapped around my wrist.

I looked up at those big brown eyes, staring at me so seriously I actually did a double take to see if it was Drake. Drake wasn’t serious.

He cocked his head slightly to the side, blinking at me like he was taking something in.

I actually found myself breathing a little heavier from his stare.

“You want to hear something honest?” he asks, his voice was deep and it pulled me into every word he was about to say. I didn’t reply and just stood there, my breath still coming out heavier than it should be. He finally spoke again “You can do so much better.”

And with that, he let go of my wrist and walked out of the kitchen, leaving me stood basically in the fridge still trying to catch my breath. Thank the actual lord I was in the fridge right now because I definitely needed something to cool me down. I was seriously tempted to go and fill the bathtub with ice as another resort.

I almost dropped the freaking beer in my hand, which would have been an absolute disaster. One of my beliefs, never waste alcohol.

I could be the alcoholic’s preacher.

The beer. Garry’s beer.

I snapped out of the weird little trance I was in as I suddenly remembered the guy I was seeing was in the next room waiting for me to come back and join him. And what was I doing?

Getting breathless over Drake freaking O’Connell. Who seemed to be giving me relationship advice?

What parallel time warp have I been sucked into?

I closed the fridge door, regretting it as suddenly I felt a little clammy as I prepared myself to go into the living room and see Garry. Why I have no idea.