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)
I hold my hands up. “Daisy, I swear that’s not what happened. She’d been dropping into my messages and gettin' weird, and I wanted to put an end to it once and for all. The weirdness, I mean. I’d already told her I was datin’ someone. She just wasn’t hearin’ it.”
Daisy smiles. “Drake, I know that. All I’m saying is, the entire thing took me off guard. I had no idea how to react, so I left. Which, in hindsight, I shouldn’t have done. I should have stood my ground and formed a united front, but…I guess it’s too late for that now.”
“In your defense, you had no idea if I was a piece of shit or not.”
“Also true.”
I wish I’d brought food; something to shove in my mouth ’cause I’m a nervous eater. Cookies or croissants or something.
Anything to keep my hands busy since I want to reach for her and hold her hands.
“I’m not a mushy guy, I’m sure you’ve figured that out,” I start by saying. “But that doesn’t mean you’re not the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning, or the last thing I think about when I close my eyes in bed at night.” Did I get that quote right?
Shit, it feels like I muddled it.
Too wordy.
I should read more books.
“We’ve only been seeing each other a few weeks. Less than a month. I think I’ll cut you some slack when it comes to writing me poetry.”
Poetry? God, I hope not. “Unless you want me to write you poetry—then I will. It’ll be crap but I’ll try.”
That makes Daisy laugh, so it has me smiling.
“Can you imagine me trying to write poetry? Oh god. It would be like, Roses are red, her vagina is pink, let’s bang ’cause I have to shower ’cause I stink.”
“See? You’re already mocking my finest work.”
Daisy reaches across the picnic table and takes my hands in hers. “This whole thing was a mess but…like. Are you okay? I was only worried about how I felt. How did that whole thing make you feel?”
Angry.
Frustrated.
Confused.
Worse because I felt like the situation was out of my control and in Shannon’s; as if there were nothing I could do to salvage it.
Thank god for Ryann, honestly.
Thank. God.
I owe her.
I owe my damn brother, which I hate.
“In my mind, the thing with Shannon was done. Over.” A non-issue. “It didn’t cross my mind that she would come rearing her ugly head to sabotage this. It was done before that day in class when you told me to shut my face and be quiet so you could concentrate.”
Daisy looks affronted, giving me one of her famous eye rolls.
“The looks she was giving me.” She shivers. “So cold.”
“She wasn’t the warm and fuzziest.”
“Ryann said she was a social climber.”
“I’m sure deep down inside there are actual emotions—like deep, deep down inside, but yeah—the guy who actually locks her down is one unlucky bastard.”
“Let’s not talk about her anymore,” Daisy tells me. “My vagina is clenching up and not in a good way.”
We both bust out laughing, me from the casual way she just blurted out the words and her from having said it.
Vagina.
What a fucking weird word, eh?
“Thanks for you know, being cool about this bullshit. I probably could have done a better job breakin things off but I wasn’t thinkin this would happen.”
“Lesson learned,” she says. “Don’t stick the dick in someone you’re not serious about because this is the shit that can happen.”
“Yeah. I got that loud and clear.” I pause. “We’re good now?”
She nods. “We’re good.”
“Then why are you sittin all the way over there when you should be over here, on my lap?”
“I should be on your lap?”
Duh. “Yeah.” Obviously.
“You want to cuddle me in the park?”
“Somethin like that.” Kiss her, cuddle her—whatever.
Daisy gets up, moving around to my side of the picnic table and coming to stand behind me. I swivel so I can pull her between my legs, face eye level with her boobs, kissing the skin on her neck since it’s directly right there.
“Speaking of vaginas,” she laughs, giving my chest a push with her hands.
“Vaginas what’s-this-now?”
Daisy shrugs. “I don’t know. It might have missed you.”
I blink.
“It might have missed me or it did miss me?”
“Did.”
“What do you want me to do about it?”
fifty-five
daisy
It’s been a long day. I need one of those hugs that turns into oral.
He’s lucky.
If I were even a little bit irrational, I would have blown this entire situation out of proportion and started a fight. I feel like that’s what my girlfriends would have done; created more drama when there was none necessary and dragged this discussion out but the reality is?
I have no interest in it. What I have an interest in is kissing him and moving on.
Do I consider this one strike? As in, three strikes you’re out?