In two days it is my 18th birthday, and I keep the idea of not telling anyone about it. I hate when they tell me “happy birthday”, I seriously hate being told that. Why is it happy? We get older, it is one year less of life.
"Good morning sleepyhead," I made a sound with my throat. I adjust myself staying leaned against the headboard of the bed. "Everything okay? That little face tells me you are thoughtful."
"Yes, just a little." I stay at the foot of the bed and crawl until I am in front of him, I fix his black tie. "Where are we going to go?"
"Are we?" he laughs raising an eyebrow. "Nowhere, my partners will come here, we have some problems in the company. And I can’t leave the country at this moment."
His partners? The one who touched my butt?
"Oh." He tenses and makes fists with
