Malone is driving quietly on the dark road.
He's angry.
He's not talking to me.
I'm not talking to him.
I'm dressed for the occasion. A cream white off-shoulder lacy dress that hugs my curves.
Malone is not dressed for the occasion.
He's just in faded ragged jeans and a black leather jacket.
My mom is going to freak out when she sees her only precious son, dressed like that for her anniversary.
"You know the theme is cream white."
"I'm not a girl," he mutters.
"Aren't you going to talk to me?"
"Before those stupid cops took me, you made it clear you didn't want anything to do with me. I feel the same now."
"Mal, I was mad that you were still treating me like some kid. I'm a grown woman and I know how to fight for myself, it might not be physically, but I know how to stand up f
