Bobby glanced at the row of parked sports carsâeight in total. Even if Fannie raced down, sheâd have plenty of room to slow down and land safely.
It wasnât a dangerous trail, but sending the bike off the cliff and that brief moment of being suspended in mid-air was the thrill of it all.
The roar of the engine drowned out their voices as Bobby gazed at the bright moon. âIf you land safely, you marry me.â
âStop trying to take advantage,â Fannie hissed, twisting the throttle. The bike shot forward, its engine roaring loudly, echoing across the mountain.
Birds hidden in the forest scattered in every direction as Fannie felt a sudden lightness, the bike slipping dangerously out of control as it flew off the cliff.
Her heartbeat stilled, and for a second, she was sure the drop would send her straight to deathâs feet.
A crash resounded, snapping Fannie back to attention.
The motorcycle landed on the roof of a sports car. She reclaimed control, gradually slowing down, and leapt from the tops of the eight cars to the ground, landing steadily. Cheers erupted as she removed the helmet. A gust of wind brushed her face, flailing her hair behind her. She spotted Bobby and gave him a thumbs-down.
She might have almost shit her pants, but she survived that drop.
Bobby scratched his head, flashing an indulging smile. âGuess you win. Everyone, pack up!â
With a triumphant smile, Fannie returned to the village with the chiefâs sons.
She had just settled in her room at the guesthouse when rain turned into a downpour outside.
Because of the sudden downpour, Bobby and his group sought shelter at the guesthouse.
The group was rowdy, and the thin walls of Fannieâs room did nothing to muffle their voices. She tossed and turned in bed, unable to fall asleep.
Thankfully, the noise died down a while later, leaving only the sound of rain pattering outside in her ears.
But that divine silence was soon interrupted by a knock on her door.
âWho is it?â Fannie called out, tense.
âYour future husband.â It was Bobbyâs voice.
Since when had he become her future husband?
Fannie remained wary, sitting up in bed. âWhat do you want?â
âThereâs no room left,â he replied casually from behind the door. âThe owner said we share this one.â
The owner would never utter such a thing.
Fannie could feel the lies dripping from Bobbyâs words. âJust a moment.â
She dialed the owner of the guesthouse, only to confirm that due to the relentless downpour, every room was occupied. True, no vacancies remained, yet Bobby had intentionally relinquished his own room for anotherâs gain.
His motives were always calculated. Frankly, he sought any pretext to share a room with her.
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