Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 104745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Most people can’t tell us apart. “Oh?”
“Are you being serious? You have a gap between your teeth, and he doesn’t.” Daisy holds up a finger to keep count. “You have a scar on your eyebrow.” Two. “Your haircuts are not the same—your hair is longer.” Three. “You’re not the same height.” Four. “When you laugh, it’s more reserved.”
Five.
I rest against the window. “Satisfied?”
She nods. “Quite.”
“So what’re we gonna do about it?”
“Do about what?”
I motion back and forth between our bodies with my hand. “This. Us.”
“What do you mean this. Us?”
Is she trying to get me to admit I want to date her? Is she going to make me spell it out for her, goddammit?
“What do you want to do about this,” I repeat, thinking I’m being clear enough, not sure what she seems so confused about.
“This?” She blinks at me in the darkened cab of the truck. “What do you want to do about…this?”
Fuck if I’m not flailing here.
“You tell me.”
Daisy lets out a laugh that’s borderline manacle, her hand reaching for her purse—and the door handle. “This has been a great talk, but it seems to be going nowhere. So I’ll just leave you to your evening.” She pulls the handle. “Drive safe. Thanks for telling me the truth.”
I don’t actually believe she’s going to walk away until she starts walking away, tucking her purse beneath her armpit as she navigates the rickety sidewalk leading up to the door—even beneath the shadows, I can see that it needs to be ripped up and redone.
Halfway to the door and she hasn’t turned around like I expect her to.
“Follow her, you idiot,” I mutter to no one. “Don’t just let her walk away.”
I climb down out of my truck, slamming the door; it echos in the quiet, dark night as I catch up to Daisy, who doesn’t have to fumble for a house key because it’s already open.
Her roommate is inside; I see her moving around the dimly lit kitchen, standing in front of the microwave.
“Daisy. I’m an idiot. Don’t go inside yet, please—hear me out.”
She turns, smiling sweetly. “I suppose I could since you said please.”
Man, she’s pretty.
Sexy with the top half of her tits illuminated by the moonlight.
I want to eat her up…
“I’m a jackass, I admit it. I’m sorry I lied. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
“You didn’t hurt me.” Her chin goes up. “I was pissed.”
“Alright. I’m sorry I pissed you off.”
“I have a feeling I would have to get used to it if I let you stick around.”
“If I let you stick around,” I repeat. “Now wouldn’t that be nice?”
“The jury is still out.”
She shifts on her heels, the soft glow of light from inside creating a halo, ethereal effect around her hair. She looks like a freaking angel although I know she’s far from it.
The smell of her is still on my hands.
My scruff.
“What do you want me to do to make it up to you?” I whisper, stepping closer.
“Nothing.” Daisy laughs, hands going up so I keep my distance. “Get your mind out of the gutter. There will not be a repeat of tonight.”
Really?
Damn.
But Daisy is flirting with me, dang if she isn’t. Not in the same way more women flirt with me—they’re usually more obvious about it, some of them as bold as offering to suck my dick, no strings attached…if you count that as flirting.
Daisy? She’s more subtle.
Coy, even.
I don’t think she’s flirting on purpose. It’s happening without either of us forcing it, and ain’t that a fresh change of pace?
I’m not going to call this a challenge—but I am saying it’s refreshing not to have a girl drooling all over me for once. We’ve gotten to know each other.
I like her.
She’s funny and smart and makes me laugh.
Great tits.
Delicious pussy.
She’s right. I have to get my mind out of the gutter.
“Can I at least see you again, or do you hate me?” I pull a pouting face, hoping that helps my case.
Daisy cocks her head to one side, considering the question.
“Hate is a very strong word.”
Yeah, I know, which is why I used it.
“It would be nice if I knew I could trust you,” she goes on.
“I hear a ‘but’ comin’.”
“But.” Her shoulders shrug, moving up then down. “I’m not sure that I can. Trust you, that is. And that’s what worries me.”
“You can trust me.”
She hmphs, unpersuaded. With a neutral expression, Daisy isn’t giving me an inch—that much is clear.
Not that I deserve one.
“My opinion hasn’t changed in the fifteen minutes it took for you to bring me home and follow me to the door.”
“Well.” I have no idea what to say or how to defend myself. I mean, she’s not wrong. I haven’t proven to be trustworthy; all I’ve done is prove that I’m a massive jackass, who not only lied to her, I lied to my brother. “If you spent more time with me, maybe I…can…” My shoulders hunch when I shove my hands inside the pockets of my jeans. “Earn it.”