Chapter 4

Sabrina’s POV

Oh, for crying out loud, we’ve been caught! Our plan didn’t go smoothly at all. Here we are, stuck with Shelly’s stepbrother Sebastian and his ever-present friend. They’re like two shadows lurking in the corner of every misadventure.

Right now, I’m unceremoniously slung over Michal’s broad shoulder, and the audacity of this man is astonishing. Who does he think he is, hoisting me up like I’m a mere sack of potatoes? 

Annoying as it may be, I’d be lying if I said part of me didn’t enjoy it. His scent of ciderwood mingled with aftershave has a strangely calming effect on me. 

It’s almost intoxicating, pulling me into a haze that makes me momentarily forget our predicament. His strong, muscled arms circle my waist, and I feel a surge of unexpected pleasure.

 It sends little shockwaves through me, and it’s so ridiculously annoying that I don’t mind it one bit. What is happening to me? 

Yes, Michal is undeniably attractive, his dark hair, those piercing eyes but how did I not realize I harbored feelings for him until now? 

Maybe it’s the alcohol coursing through my veins, clouding my judgment. Yes, it must be the drinks talking. Surely, that’s got to be it. The idea of falling for the mafia’s second-in-command is absurd, right?

 It would be like voluntarily signing up for a lifetime in a chaotic whirlwind. Yet, there’s a part of me that’s intrigued, wondering what it’d be like to unravel the layers behind his guarded facade.

Despite it all, there’s a magnetic pull that I can’t quite explain. It’s both thrilling and terrifying to even entertain such thoughts. 

I try to shake off the notion, convincing myself that this is just a spontaneous attraction and infatuation born from the rush of adrenaline and perhaps more than a few impulsive choices made tonight.

As Michal steadies me on my feet, his eyes briefly meet mine, and there’s a flicker of something genuine there, a depth I hadn’t noticed before. It’s a pivotal moment, a split-second revelation that perhaps there might be more to him than meets the eye.

We’re caught in a precarious situation now, no denying that, but somehow with him by my side, it doesn’t seem quite so daunting.

 Despite the chaos, an unexpected sense of security has wrapped itself around me. Maybe it’s the mystery that Michal embodies, or perhaps it’s just the warmth of his presence, but I find myself daring to be optimistic even with Shelly and Sebastian's antics in full swing.

I can’t shake off the idea that perhaps, just perhaps, there’s something worth exploring beneath Michal’s cool exterior. But for now, it’s a fleeting thought, tucked away in the corners of a night teeming with mayhem and mischief.

We hurriedly make our way over to Sebastian’s car, and Michal quickly opens the back door, sliding into the seat while gently guiding me in next to him. 

Once we're settled securely inside, he shuts the door with a decisive thud. Up front, Shelly takes her place in the passenger seat, her eyes filled with defiance.

As Sebastian approaches, he shoots a glance towards Shelly. With an air of half-amusement, half-seriousness, he warns her softly, "Don’t get any bright ideas, Shelly," just before closing her door with a firm click.

 Shelly, never one to back down, responds in the most unexpected manner, sticking her tongue out at the now-closed door, her act of rebellion drawing an involuntary laugh from me.

Sebastian, our reluctant but responsible driver for the evening, slides into the driver’s seat. He emits a low, disgruntled noise, somewhere between a sigh and a growl. 

His patience, already worn thin, barely holds as he directs an exasperated glare at Shelly. “This is not what I had planned for tonight, Shelly,” he mutters, disappointment heavy in his voice.

 In reply, Shelly returns his glare with equal intensity, her feigned innocence barely concealing the simmering tension.

“Well, you know,” she begins with a tone wracked with irritation and a touch of sarcasm, “you didn’t have to caveman us out of there, ya know? 

We were perfectly fine before you two barged in and ruined everything. You're not my dad, Sebastian. I didn’t need rescuing.” Her words hang in the air, defiant and pointed, as she crosses her arms over her chest.

Sebastian is quick to retort, his voice matching the volume of her indignation yet laced with an undertone of concern. “Then stop doing stupid shit, and I wouldn’t have to track you down all the time.” 

He shakes his head, his frustration palpable as he grips the steering wheel a little too tightly. In the backseat, Michal and I exchange glances, acutely aware of the charged atmosphere.

The tension in the car is extraordinarily palpable, thick enough to slice through with a knife. An unspoken, complicated intertwining of emotions fills the space between Sebastian and Shelly with something deeper and more nuanced than mere sibling rivalry. 

Although they may share the title of step-siblings, it’s clear to anyone who observes them closely that there's an unacknowledged affection between the two, an undeniable chemistry neither is willing to admit, let alone confront. 

Fear and love often walk hand-in-hand, and their situation is no exception drawn together yet held apart by fear of crossing lines that have been long established by social convention and personal hesitation.

Sebastian then glances into the rearview mirror, his sharp eyes fixed on mine. "Sabrina," he says with a measured tone, "I'll be dropping you off at your house tonight because Miss Shelly here has managed to get herself grounded." 

His words echo authority, tinged with exasperation, aimed directly at Shelly, who sits fuming beside me.

If expressions could cause physical harm, Sebastian would be in grave danger; Shelly's glare is fierce and unforgiving, expertly crafted to pierce right through him.

 Despite the tense atmosphere in the car, I simply nod at Sebastian, acknowledging his plan without protest. There's something about his presence that's a bit intimidating, a blend of firm control and understated strictness.

However, Shelly is anything but compliant. With her trademark defiance, she snaps back, "Sebastian, you’re not my dad! You don’t get to ground me, you damn asshole. I’m an adult, and I can do whatever I please." 

Her voice echoes with fiery indignation, bouncing off the car's interior. I know Shelly well enough to realize that this confrontation won't end the moment I exit the car. 

Her rebellious spirit thrives on such exchanges, and I wouldn't be surprised to find her knocking on my door before the night is over, venting about Sebastian's audacity.

Her untamable nature is precisely why she's my best friend. We form an unusual pair, like yin and yang. Shelly, with her audacious flair and carefree demeanor, thrives on chaos and excitement.

 Her rebellious adventures keep life unpredictable and thrilling, while I balance the scale with my more mellow, cautious nature.

Despite my penchant for order and calm, her spontaneous spirit intertwines with mine, crafting a friendship that's as strong as it is contrasting.

Together, we navigate the ups and downs, our differences knitting us closer, cementing the bond that makes us inseparable. 

Her daring escapades often pull me out of my comfort zone, introducing me to a world where rules are meant to be broken and adventures are lurking at every corner.

Throughout the whole ride, I swear Michael is trying to get closer to me. Every so often, I feel his hand gently finding its way to my thigh, where it rests with a warmth that defies the chill of the evening air. 

His fingers slowly rub up and down, tracing a tantalizing path that sends delightful shivers through my body. It’s a subtle, almost innocent gesture, yet it carries a weight of intention that neither of us dares to acknowledge aloud.

There’s a budding chemistry between us, unspoken but palpable, manifesting in these fleeting touches that linger longer than mere accident would allow.

 Each time his hand ventures toward me, I hold my breath, caught in a tangle of nerves and excitement. My heart races in anticipation, urging the fleeting moment to extend itself just a bit longer. 

Yet, just as the warmth grows comforting and familiar, his hand suddenly retreats, as if jolted by an unseen force or a sudden realization of trespass.

It’s a dance of proximity and withdrawal, intimate yet unassuming, leaving a trail of longing in its wake. I can’t tell if he knows exactly what he’s doing, if he’s aware of the effect these touches have on me.

 They stir a whirlwind of emotions, tingling excitement mixed with a dash of anticipation, a cocktail of desire that’s as confusing as it is exhilarating.

 My mind is a swirling tempest of doubt and hope, wondering if these touches are part of a conscious decision or just an innocent habit he’s unaware of.

Part of me enjoys the mystery, relishing the sweet tension that wraps around the silent car ride. The little flirtations transform the mundane journey into an adventure of emotions and unspoken possibilities.

 I find myself wishing he wouldn't stop, that these stolen touches could evolve into something more, unshackled from the bounds of hesitation and uncertainty.

With every touch, I find myself more attuned to the subtle signals, the lingering glances, the shy smiles. The moments of silence between us thrum with an unspoken chemistry that speaks louder than words ever could.

 In a simple car ride, there's a blooming connection, an uncharted territory of emotion that beckons to be explored. This ride, with its soft exchanges and gentle discoveries, becomes more than just a trip from one point to another. 

Later that night I change into my pajamas for bed but I catch myself thinking about Michal and how handsome and hot he is. I can’t help what happens next. When I feel my hand slowly find its way down through the band of my pajama pants. 

Finding that sensitive bud of nerves. I slowly start to rub myself thinking about Michal. The way he smelled tonight. How handsome he looked and that drop dead gorgeous smile he showed me when I got out of the car tonight. 

I start to feel that familiar feeling deep down in my stomach and move my fingers even faster until I finally let myself go. Screaming out Michal’s name in the process as my juices coat my fingers. 

Before I can attempt to pull myself back together. Or at least looking like I wasn’t just getting myself off over fascinations of Michal.

 I hear a bunch of commotions coming from my bedroom window. Suddenly Shelly fell through it onto my bedroom floor with a thud.

“Ouch that hurt like a bitch.” Not being able to help myself I start to bust up laughing at my crazy best friend.