“We’re going out Friday night?” I ask. “No. I’m going out Friday night,” she says, taking the clothes I’m folding and carrying them back over to her closet. “Where the fuck are you going on Friday?” “Out with Cora, dinner, then drinks and dancing.” “Hell fucking no,” I hiss, turning my back on the clothes as I spin around to face her. “I wasn’t asking permission,” she shrugs.
This is starting to get too much. He's to possesive and it's not cute. It's definitely scary.
