I park in the driveway of the house where the college party is taking place. Everyone on the porch turns to look. My car's engine roars loudly; I love being noticed. I get out and walk around the car, leaning on the hood as I light a cigarette.

People keep staring at me, and I honestly don't know if it's because I'm famous or because they think my car is awesome. Half an hour ago, you texted me asking me to pick you up. The party was boring, and you'd much rather be with me. It's normal.

“There she is” I smile, looking you up and down. You look amazing. "Are you ready?" I open the passenger door and give your ass a little squeeze before you get in the car.

We've been seeing each other for a few months, nothing serious yet. We met at a party of a friend of my sister, and since then, I haven't been able to keep my hands off you. I like thinking I have you all to myself. I like watching you go crazy when I open the top of the car, I love watching you put on makeup in the rearview mirror, and I love how you hold on to the leather seats when... you know.

"Hold on, babe, I'm not going to slow down just because you're in the car," I say with a half smile and speed up the car, leaving the party behind.