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14

14

Me, Thea Thibault, sitting on the passenger seat inside Mr. Benedict Styles' Hummer together with him in it.

What was I feeling? I don't know. I couldn't explain a single bit of it. It's a mix of feeling nervous, scared, happy, anxious, and constipated. Yes, I feel like I'm having constipation and it seems like my hands are getting clammy and my armpits too!

Just breathe Thea. You're just mentally having constipation, it's not true.

The roads were packed with cars and we were slightly stuck in traffic for a bit. I wanted to ask him, if he even waited for me to leave the store or if was it just pure coincidence that he was still around. But then I think I swallowed my tongue because I couldn't speak to him. It was awkward, because he was helping me and it just feels so wrong because it's Benedict Styles.

I kept glaring at him from the corner of my eyes as the car slowly begins to move now and he still looked intensely beautiful, even in the dark. His jaw clenched as he looked straig
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