The Unwanted Bride Of Atticus Fawn

The Unwanted Bride Of Atticus Fawn Chapter 8

“This is perfect!” The photographer says. “For someone that didn’t want to do the kiss, to begin with, you did an excellent job.”

Atticus looks anything but happy with his praise.

I couldn’t believe it. I’ve been dreaming of kissing Atticus since I first fell in love. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have his lips on mine. I knew now that it was more than I’d ever hoped for from him. I clutched my chest; my heart was racing, pounding hard and fast.

I watch as Atticus storms out before anyone can say anything else. I knew he was even more upset than he was showing.

I slowly bring my finger to my lips, still tingling from his kiss.

“Did I say something wrong?” The photographer asks.

His voice reminds me that I wasn’t alone. I didn’t want everyone to see how affected I was by his kiss. Though that wouldn’t be such a bad thing since strangers needed to believe that we were in love. While they would easily be able to tell that Atticus was not in love with me, I feel like anyone would be able to read straight through me like an open book.

his actions to heart, Mr. Asanto.” His mother assures him. “My

with so much ease; it was a shock to me. It would seem that my parents weren’t the only ones

but my feet are moving without my permission. I want to ensure he is okay and doesn’t do anything stupid. I keep searching for him until I

many his family owns. They were the best in designing fast vehicles and manufacturing them. They also added special features, whatever their customers desired. They were brilliant when it came to fast cars. That’s why once someone bought a car

Atticus should be driving under

he leaves, but he’s already speeding past me. My hair flies all over my face from the force of it. I sighed; now I had to hope that he drove safely and didn’t act recklessly because of the wedding. My heart

. . .

~ATTICUS~

else but the kiss I just shared with Autumn. Her lips were soft like butter, and her taste was still in my

me feel. I had a mate. I had someone I couldn’t live

some control? I’ve always had more self-control than this,

like

pain, and yet I was f*****g enjoying a kiss with her best friend. The least I could do for her was

of our relationship; they would bombard her with questions. How would she feel? It was supposed to be

something like this before.