Adam

The next morning after our dinner argument, I drive Selena for wedding dress shopping.

Julie meets us in front of a trendy bridal store in West Hollywood. Where people strut in and out of high-end restaurants and shops, with designer shopping bags. The bright lights inside the store display every kind of wedding gown, with tiaras and jewelry in glass shelves. The employees are all slim, tall, wearing thin hills and black dresses.

Selena's fidgeting uneasily as the associate greets and takes us to the designated area. There's a raised podium facing a wall length mirror, and couches for the bridal party to be comfortable.

"Um..." Selena glances at the group next to her, where the bubbly bride-to-be is popping champagne with her friends. "Could we move somewhere a little bit more private?"

"Did you bring your heels?" Julie whispers as we move to the corner.

Selena takes out black heels from her bag.

"That's what you're wearing on your wedding day?" Julie scowls.

"No. You said bring heels. You didn't say to bring the ones I'm wearing on my wedding day."

I resist palming my face. This is the same thing that happened yesterday, when I asked her to watch the food and she burnt it.

Julie sighs. "Selena... you need the exact shoes so we alter the dress length correctly."

"Oh..." Realization settles in, followed with embarrassment. "Why didn't you say that?"

"Hi there! Can I get you anything to drink while you wait?" A bouncy redhead with a high-pitch giggle pops in front of me. She's just looking just at me, nobody else.

Subtle.

"Champagne!" Julie drapes herself over the couch like a soap opera drama queen. "Adam, sit! We need your opinion too, you know."

I'm okay. Although, I do like this version of her more than when she's around Jacob. That man just needs to be exiled.

Meanwhile, Selena is sulking in the corner like a drenched cat. You'd think someone is holding a knife against her neck to try on the dresses.

"You must be the bride." A professional woman strides towards her, making Selena stiffen. "I'm your personal stylist, Gabrielle. Congratulations on your engagement! So excited to help you!"

She throws her long arms around Selena for a hug and I watch Selena grimace from the contact. But she forces herself to laugh, hiding her discomfort. "Uh, it's nice to meet you too..."

"Can I get you some coffee?" The freckled redhead is back, now flirting quietly.

"Sure."

"How would you like your coffee, sir? Would you like it with cream and sugar?" She bites her lip.

"Just black." You're doing too much, darling.

Meanwhile, Selena is taken to choose a couple of gowns to try on. I don't take my eyes off of her. I know she's inside a store where it's probably safe, but I still feel uneasy when she goes behind the curtain to undress. At least she's close to me.

"Sit." Julie pats the couch. "Come on, don't just stand there."

I get that she's alone, but I'm not family and I'm not a friend. "That's okay, ma'am. I'm just doing my job here."

The curtain slides open and my dead heart skips a beat when I see Selena in a wedding dress.

I quickly look away, but the image won't get out of my head.

Where the fuck did this nervousness come from?

"Look at you, honey!" Julie cries out. "Oh my God, I need more champagne. I'm going to cry!"

"Mom, please..."

"Well?" The stylist gushes. "What do we think?"

"Um...it's nothing like the pictures I was showing you earlier..." Selena's voice comes out monotone. "Plus, the material feels horrible."

"Okay, I hear you. But it's really important to keep an open mind. You'll be surprised how many brides envision one thing, then buy the exact opposite."

"She's right, honey." Julie adds. "There's no harm in trying other options."

"Well, this makes me want to rip my skin off, so, if you don't mind, I'm going to take it off."

I scoff to mask my smile as Selena ignores them and quietly goes back to change. Julie gives me an astounded look over her shoulder.

"What'd you think?"

"I wasn't looking."

Again, she clicks her tongue, more annoyed than before. "It's bad enough she's so sensitive, but we don't have time. The wedding is less than three months away, she needs to choose."

A moment later, Selena yanks the curtain aside in another dress, burning holes at Julie.

"This is a Kinnie Couture from our summer 2024 collection," the stylist explains. "It's stunning."

"Wow, that dress is gorgeous on you!" The redhead is back with my coffee, but she's gaping at Selena. "Oh my God, I'm obsessed!"

"I have to say, I agree," Julie says, eyeing Selena cautiously. "What do you think?"

"I think it's great, if I ever want to look like a tampon for Halloween."

In the dead silence, I snort against my will. All three heads turn to me, offended and shocked, except for Selena who mirrors my amusement.

"The air's so dry here..." I rub my throat, trying not to laugh.

After trying on five more dresses, Selena gives up and we leave the store. At the second one, she's already drained and mentally checked out. At the last one, she's on the verge of having a meltdown and begs Julie if she can go home.

It's almost dinner time, but when we get back to her apartment, Selena boils herself in the shower then puts her giant headphones on and starts to obsessively deep clean the whole kitchen.

I'm on the couch, not sure what to do with myself. I'm even watching TV with the volume all the way down, so it doesn't trigger her. Is she upset that she didn't find a dress? Or is she still mad at me for snapping at her last night?

I have no intention to apologize. All I wanted was to have dinner in peace and figure out how I'm going to let Leah fly to Cancun this weekend. That's why I was so angry last night after she told me on the phone. Apparently Roxie has planned the trip months ago for her daughter's 8th birthday, and while she has the deadliest men guarding their every step, I'm not comfortable with being so far away from my sister when there's a criminal on the loose.

Maybe I shouldn't have snapped at Selena. It's not her fault. But I can't help the irrational resentment sometimes I feel towards her.

She has everything in the palm of her hand. Money. Family. Youth. Health. Why she chooses to waste her life away, cramped up in this apartment with so many rules and routines is beyond me.

Plus, I need to earn my income. I need that adrenaline. I need to distract myself from the dark thoughts running in my head everyday.

With a frustrated sigh, I get up from the couch to grab water from the kitchen. I pass Selena, who's wearing tiny black shorts with a crop top, and she's bending over the counter to wipe every inch of it like it's infested with deadly bacteria.

She ignores me, just like I ignore her. While I open the freezer to fill my glass with ice cubes, she pulls out a foldable step stool and climbs on the counter, to reach the high cabinets.

The smell of bleach and soap is heavy in the air. She's panting with effort, scrubbing the white doors so hard, that her hips shake with each movement. And the fine muscles stretched down the side of her thighs delicately flex.

I never noticed she has back dimples...

"Do you need—" I'm about to ask if she needs help, but the thoughts are erased when she props herself up on top of the refrigerator. "Uh..."

She sits cross-legged on the fridge like a human cat and cleans the tallest cabinet there. I open the freezer to put the ice back, feeling awkward in the obvious silence.

"Do you need help?" I grumble. No reply. It's the headphones. "Selena?" I gently poke her to get her attention.

"Huh?" She moves one side of the headphones from her ear.

"I asked do you need my help?"

"Nope." She turns back to cleaning.

"You're still mad about yesterday?"

"Nope."

"Then why are you so moody?"

"What the hell do you want?"

"Well, for starters, a 'thank you' for cooking again after you ruined the first batch would be nice." No reply again. "Are you on your period?"

She throws the damp, dirty towel at my face.

"Ass."

Calm down, Adam. Don't get angry.

I peel the disgusting towel off my face, remaining silent.

Meanwhile she climbs down on the counter, but instead of stepping on the floor, she throws one leg over the kitchen island in front of her.

"Are you trying to get hurt?" I snap. My arms instinctually reach to hold her from falling.

"Don't touch me. I don't need your help."

Gritting my teeth with annoyance, I force my arms to lower by my sides, but I stay exactly where I am. I don't trust her socks on granite.

She stomps on the island over to the hanging shelves on the wall, organizing the spice jars. My stomach growls, reminding me we haven't eaten.

"Do you want to try cooking again?" I ask. "This time hopefully without burning the apartment?"

"No, I'm good."

Does she expect me to cook for her again?

"Why not?"

"No clue, maybe because I lack common sense."

"Seriously, you're still on that?"

"I apologized." She turns around, standing above me. "I told you I didn't do it on purpose."

"You were on your phone. I left you alone for two minutes, but you—"

"Because I was Googling what to do! You left me without instructions."

"I said watch the food. What the hell do you think that means?"

"I don't know, it can mean so many things!"

"Maybe to you! How am I supposed to know you don't understand basic English?"

She scoffs, sliding off the counter.

"What?" I snap. "You're difficult sometimes, you know that. Just like today at the store, how'd you not realize you're supposed to bring the exact heels to wear with your wedding dress?"

When she crouches under the counter to slide the step stool behind it, I wrap my hand around the sharp corner, so she doesn't split her head open.

"I'm not trying to be mean..." I will my voice to be more gentle as she stands up, but she still hides behind her hair. "Hey. Look at me."

"I don't want to look at you."

"Oh my God. Why do you have to make everything difficult? Just look at me."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"It's uncomfortable for me."

"Why is it uncomfortable? Tsk. Hey. Would you stop? I'm trying to talk to you—"

"I don't give a shit! Stop acting like you care when we both know that if you weren't getting paid, you wouldn't even be here with me." She cries out, her eyes angrily watering and voice small and brittle. "I know that I'm difficult, Adam. Why the fuck do you think I'm alone? Huh? You think I enjoy being so sensitive? You think it's fun for me? You have no idea the shit I go through. No one does. I'm so sick and tired of being judged by everyone. Fuck all of you!"

Her last words crumble with so much pain, that when she brushes past me to walk away, I can't stop myself from grabbing her wrist.

"Let me go."

"Wait."

She's right. She's right about everything.

All this times, I've watched her get verbally harassed by her dad and by strangers. But here I am, acting just like the rest of them. As if I don't see the pain she's forced to mask all the time.

For whatever reason, the memory of that sad boy in the supermarket replays in my head. How Selena bought him that chocolate cake he so badly wanted, but his parents refused. How she ran to give it to him with a smile on her face.

No one else in the store noticed him. No one else did that for him. I didn't either. But she did.

"I'm sorry," I finally say.

She peeks at me, so hesitant, that it feels like someone shoved their hand through my chest.

"I really am," I say, letting the vulnerability I so religiously protect show in my face.

"For what?"

"For saying you don't have common sense." I note how she flinches even now at those words. "You're right. I don't know what you go through. Sometimes, I can kind of understand. But most of the time, I don't. I'm trying, but that doesn't give me the excuse to judge you. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She frowns at the floor again.

There's still some confusion floating above her head. And with good reason, I haven't told her the entire reason I was so upset yesterday.

I take a deep breath, letting her go. "Roxie's taking Leah to Cancun for her daughter's birthday. She told me last night and I, I was still angry when I came back and saw the food was all burnt. That's also why I took it out on you."

"Oh." She contemplates, chewing on her bottom lip, then looks up at me. "Do you want to go?"

I chuckle dryly. "To Cancun? Sure."

"I'm serious. I'm getting married there, anyway. I can tell my dad we need to go to check out the resort. You know, cake tasting and whatnot."

"Yeah, okay."

"What?" She gets angry. "Why aren't you taking me serious?"

"Because you're not going to go to Cancun."

"Why not?"

"What do you mean?" I don't understand this girl at all. Does she hate me or not?

"Okay, let's see. I have the money, I'm not busy, and she's the only family you have." She glares at me, putting her hands on her hips. "So what kind of a dumbass do you think I am, that I wouldn't care enough to fly to Cancun so you can be close to your sister in case something happens?"

"But why?" I'm stunned, shaken to my core at how random, but passionate she is about all this. "Why would you do that for me?"

"I'd do it for anyone, don't flatter yourself." She rolls her eyes, walking out of the kitchen.

"Selena."

"What?" She snaps over her shoulder.

Her dad is right.

She's not normal.

Even when she hated the idea of me being her bodyguard, she covered me with a blanket so I wouldn't get cold. She made me visit my sister when I was worried about her being sick, and she drew me a bubble bath when I got injured.

She's not normal.

Normal people aren't so kind. Aren't so thoughtful. Aren't so forgiving.

"You don't have to be so nice to me," I say. "I don't want to take advantage of you."

She snorts. "I'm way too smart to be taken advantage of. Don't confuse my sensitivity with weakness. Besides, I know your heart is in the right place." She softens. "Why do you think I didn't judge you when I found out you've been to prison?"

"Still..." I'm dumbstruck. "It's a lot of money."

"Yeah, it is. Maybe you should cook me dinner every night to make up for it." 

"Selena." I roll my eyes. "You know, that's not enough."

"No." She smirks. "But I'm sure you'll find a way to make up for it, sweetheart."

A/N

Oh yeah, we love a strong female lead putting a scary love interest in his place, don't we?

Please put this chapter in its place by hitting that star button, my fellow brats. I appreciate it ❤️