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)
Daisy laughs. “Did saying that hurt? You look like you’re in pain.”
“Yeah, it kind of did hurt, actually.”
Hurt my dick and my pride.
Ha.
She swats playfully. “Shut up, it did not.”
I seize the opportunity to pull her in my arms, wrapping them around her waist. “At least let me kiss you good night.”
“Fine. But don’t scratch me with your whiskers.”
“Already issuing orders, I see?” I like it.
Lowering my head, I let my hands roam down Daisy’s backside to pull her closer, palms splaying over her ass.
I squeeze.
I moan into her mouth when our lips meet, our tongues mingling. Wet. Warm. A tangled dance that gets more frenzied by the second, my lips straying from her mouth to her jawline, gently sucking their way down the column of her neck.
Below her ear.
Her collarbone.
The pulse in her neck…
…back up again.
The kiss is hot.
My dick? Hard.
The air around us sizzles with electricity as we explore each other's mouths, our bodies pressed tightly together.
“Are you sure you won’t change your mind about datin’ me?” I murmur to the delicate spot below her ear as she shivers, pressing a hand against my chest to give herself some space.
The cool air between our bodies is an unwelcome guest.
“Kissing me is not going to change my mind. Nice try, though.”
“Just shootin’ my shot.”
“I have to think about all this, Drake. I need some time.”
Still. “You just called me by my name.”
“I mean, what else should I be calling you? That’s your name.”
But she’s been calling me Drew for the past few weeks and hearing my own name on her lips is an entirely new sensation; one I didn’t realize would feel so fucking good.
“Can I call you at least?”
She nods. “Yes.”
“Okay then.” I breathe out, relieved. “Night, Daisy.”
“Good night, Drake.”
I step back, stepping off the sidewalk and onto the grass so she can enter the house without me crowding her, watching as she closes the kitchen door behind herself, listening to the deadbolt click into place.
Daisy gives me a small wave through the window and like a turd on a windowsill, I give her a little wave back.
Drake:
Fun fact, I have zero chill.
Daisy:
??
The fact that I only waited two hours to text you means I have zero willpower.
Is that a bad thing?
No. But aren’t there rules that say I have to wait 3 days? Or like wait for you to text me first?
First of all, whoever came up with those rules was a guy. And an idiot. Second of all, there are no rules.
No rules. Is that so…
I would be so annoyed if you waited 3 days.
Ah, so you admit you were waiting for me to message you…
No. I just said I’d be annoyed LOL
Same thing.
False. Not the same thing at all.
Agree to disagree.
LOL stop doing that.
Stop doing WHAT?
Stop making me laugh.
Fun fact: I’m funny, dammit…
You weren’t funny tonight when you were creeping on me in the backyard at the party.
What I’m hearing right now is: you noticed me.
It’s hard NOT to notice a giant person LOOMING over me, practically breathing down my neck. What did your date think of your staring?
My what???
Your date.
The blonde.
I have no idea who that girl was. She decided to stand there creeping on me while I crept on you.
Hmm.
Are you JEALOUS??
What?! ME? NO.
LOL don’t lie, your panties are in a bit of a twist.
Well, do you blame me? You guys all have girls hanging all over you all of the time.
It’s not ALL of the time; it’s SOME of the time.
Pause. Did you just use a SEMICOLON in a text message.
Indeed, I did…did you like that?
I’ll never say **lips zipped**
Okay let’s get back to the part where you’re jealous.
Now I’m rolling my eyes.
I feel like we weren’t discussing about how I’m jealous. We were discussing how you have girls hanging on you some of the time.
Can I video chat you? This conversation would be easier.
Um. Sure…..
thirty-three
daisy
If your ego is speaking, my attitude is going to reply.
I primp.
Even though I’m lying in bed, hair fanned out against my pillow, I primp. Makeup free. Face at a full shine from serums and moisturizer, I hope I look glowing and not oily.
Ugh.
He gives me a whopping five seconds to brace myself for his call, the video feature ringing, his name glowing on my screen.
I angle my head so I don’t have a double chin before swiping to accept the call, schooling my expression so I look pleasant. And cute.
“Hey.” His voice is deep. Low. Sleepy.
Giving him a wane smile, I glance at my own reflection in the small window at the bottom corner of the screen then up at his.
He’s shirtless.
Tan.
I can only see some of his upper torso, unfortunately, his body the product of hours at the gym, hours on the playing field. He’s toned and tight, his clavicle and collarbone a beautiful expanse of skin.