Chapter seventeen

I don't know why I agreed to let Della drive my car. I can think of two reasons and they are all so lame. First, she convinced me that since she invited me to this dinner, she should be the one driving. Second is because she convinced me she is really a good driver. In bed, yes but on the road, I don't know if I might see tomorrow.

"I swear to God if you dent my car Della, you are so dead." I complain for the umpteenth time. She breaks up in a wider grin.

"Relax your tities Armstrong. It is fun." she mocks. It maybe for her but not for me. Okay maybe that is not entirely true but the way she is driving my car is driving me insane.

"Where did you learn to drive like freaking formula one missy?" I question.

"I guess I didn't tell you about my lack of career motivation when I was still in high school. I tried everything fun." she replies.

"Not convincing."

"Alright, then this will."

She steps on the gas again. At this rate, we are going to get a speeding ticket.

"Freaking hell Della. Remi
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