It wasn't supposed to go this way, I didn't want to do it this way either but after having a little too much of liquid courage I'm about to do it.

"I really, really, really, really, really like you" I slur and he stares at me intently like he's trying to figure out exactly what my deal is. I smile wider because his confused face in my memory is so cute, "will you go out with me?"

"Are you sure you won't regret this decision later?" he asks and I don't remember his voice being this deep but well alcohol messes with the brain, I think.

"I'd be a fool to regret it later" I smile proudly and sway, his hand grabs my waist and pulls me towards him and I excitedly inhale his cologne and stop mid-whiff because I don't remember him smelling like the woods, he always smelt like peaches and I really like peaches.

I don't remember his shoulders being this broad and defined either and was he always this tall or am I just imagining it? I shake my head to rid myself of the fog clouding my brain and finally I can see straight and my brain isn't feeling muddy.

I step back and he releases me and my eyes widen in shock as I realize that it is indeed not who I thought it was and I feel sick to my stomach and my toes curl in fright.

He smirks at me and runs his hand through his dark hair and I feel shivers running down my spine, "No backing out now sweetheart" he says and walks back towards the party, leaving me standing there with my hands on my head and mouth agape.

I'm definitely and totally done for, I just confessed to the wrong person and not just a wrong person but the worst person to ever possibly confess to. If I correct myself tomorrow and tell him it was an accident then I might as well end up like one of those prostitutes in the alleyway, dead.

Nope, there's no way I'm correcting myself, which means from now on I am officially dating the only son of the Mafia boss and a psychotic killer at that.