Page 19 of Bossy Grump's Secret

"You're right, baby," I say, patting her head. "You can sit this one out. I'll bring videos."

Usually, whenever I told Lily to sit out an adventure, that would be the breaking point to get her to follow me... but not this time. she skittles around me and toward the main lobbies. "Bring me the ones of you running in blind fear," she mocks.

"Chicken," I mutter and enter from the back of the kitchen.

The parking lot looks small from this end... until I come out of the kitchen offloading unit. The floor alone is huge, and the mere size of the place would trigger both someones with megalopolis and claustrophobia at the same time.

I walk to the end of the parking lot and see that it has more levels than I thought... I move the only way that all horror movies increase the tension... down. I make a few trips down into the chasm of the lot, taking notes of the fancy cars parked on the various floors.

I must be a very slow learner. I was about to be raped some time ago. Here I am, putting myself in the homing beacon of danger. But I'm better prepared this time. My switchblade is still in its place - in a tight grip from my hands inside my hoodie pocket.

A room here is a thousand, five hundred, so if anyone but the staff drives a Toyota, it'd genuinely come as a great shock.

The hotel itself is exotic. Guests should be too, so there is no surprise here. Still, I let myself get carried away by the Ferraris, Lamborghinis - and a lot more. Although I'm bad at naming cars, I can recognize some of them.

Luckily, I finished my tour without getting robbed or mauled. Before I begin my ascension, I take pictures of cars. I aspire to make full video catalogues of the rarities, especially Lamborghinis. I love Lamborghini. The car just has this signature sharp body design that screams it's a supercar.

When I have enough videos to keep Lily and me occupied in a discussion for the rest of the night, I take a last look around and begin heading back. But as soon as I turn to go, something moving in the shadows causes me to reel around and pull out my pocketknife.

He's a little farther from me, but I recognize him uncannily.

"Dylan?" He looks up at me and just continues walking when he sees it's me. "You should be at work, Candy," he grunts.

'What? A new nickname?'

"Today is my day off, remember?" I shrug him off but still keep my eyes on him. Something is off. Just as I'm about to dismiss it as one of my many perverted lusts, he staggers. That's when I realized he was drunk.

"Dylan, you're drunk," I affirm my suspicion when he replies.

"Oh, you can tell?" he asks. Well, I deserve that one.

I folded my arms across my chest to question him. "Where the hell are you coming from? Do you know what time it is?" I widen my eyes to emphasize my seriousness.

He is currently holding onto a van to keep his stance steady.

"You're asking the wrong questions, mi bellissima principessa," he mocks and smiles at me.

"You're not Spanish either, so quit flexing on me." I roll my eyes. It was a rare occasion to get Dylan to do something fun. I really wanted to know the exact club that put a genuine smile on his face, albeit drunken.

"To be honest? I don't really care. How do you get to your room without being called out… by a superior or maybe Mrs. Greane." To this, his eyes widen. I continue, ".... we'll see what she says about a drunken staff on her premises. ”

"You don't have to involve the authorities in this," he drawls. "We can settle this... some other way." He throws a coy look, like he's holding back a fart.

"Let's get you to your room, okay?" I reach out to him, but he slaps my hands off.

"I can get there myself." He scrunches his face.

I nod convincingly and take hold of his arm. Oddly enough, he lets me this time.

Together, we trek to his room, where he becomes undeniably annoying. First, he lies face down on the ground at the threshold of the room, making me drag him all the way in. When he's finally in, I expect him to fall asleep, as is with all the drunk people. Instead, he picks himself up and sits on the bed, throwing me a lazy smirk.

"What is it again?" I blurt, keep my arms akimbo.

"This shirt..." He tugs at the hem, repeatedly missing the buttons, "... can hardly breathe. Help me?"

His eyes glisten with tipsiness, and I feel obliged to help him. It'd be a waste if he threw up on that nice shirt. Besides, I want to see what he looks like under it.

I hurry to him and begin tugging the buttons out of their holes. Just as I do the third button, he snatches me by the waist and pulls me closer, making me yelp. I can only scream for so long, though. Just as soon as my body hits him, my lips hit him, and we ease into a kiss.

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