Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 119152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“A redo.”
“Yeah. Think we can get along long enough to make that happen?”
She stares at me as if she needs to ponder the idea. I grab her waist and tickle her. “Fine! Okay, stop. Yes, friends—or whatever.”
“Friends. . . ” It has a weird ring to it. I’ve been inside her, tasted her, made her come. The title doesn’t seem enough. “Friends, it is.”
“Hmmm. . .” is her only reply.
“Question, though. Do friends kiss?” I’m probably pushing the limits here.
“No. It would give the wrong impression.”
“Right. Cool. That’s what I was thinking. Glad we got that out of the way. Friends hang out and watch TV, right?” Fuck, why don’t friends kiss? The way her lips curl into the sexiest smile makes me want to rewrite the rulebook.
“They do. And they let the girl choose the movie.” She jumps up and grabs the remote. Turning on the television, she scrolls through, finding something for us to watch.
“Seriously?”
“Sit back and enjoy, friend.”
I chuckle, shaking my head and resting back on her couch. The beginning credits roll. I can’t even believe she remembers this from movie night. What I remember is her tart mouth and the fury I felt when she one-upped me. The first scene comes on, and I turn to her. “Why is it. . .?” She’s passed out.
Chapter 15
Makayla
I stir awake, groaning at the kink in my neck. It pulls me out of my slumber, and I wipe at the drool around my mouth. “Gross,” I mumble, lifting my head from my pillow. But my pillow isn’t a pillow. “Oh shiiit.” With one eye open, the other crusted shut, I stare at Ben, who’s fast asleep on my couch, in an even more uncomfortable position. What’s worse is when I look down where my head was resting, there’s a huge drool stain. “Seriously?” I flip out, attempting to wipe it away. “Oh God, go away.” I try blowing on it.
“Is this the start of a friendship blowjob?”
My head whips up. “Yes—no! I left a spot—I—I was in your lap and—I think I drooled on you.” The words shoot out of my mouth so fast, I’m not even sure I make sense.
He wipes his hands down his face. “Wow, you just said a lot.”
“I wasn’t trying to blow you. Well. . . I was. But—not—I don’t normally wake up and try to blow—”
“So, you do give—”
“No! Shit. I have to go.” I get up to leave but realize I’m in my own house. I twist back around. “Um, maybe—”
“I was just going.” Ben gets up, patting his pockets, then pulls out his keys. He looks at me. “Friends have sleepovers. It’s all good.”
“Yeah, sure. Friends.” Friends. We’re just friends.
“Uh. . . are we good?”
“Yep!” I said that too quick. Way too eager. Are we good? How did we end up sleeping on my couch? I never drink to the point of not remembering. Yesterday, my emotions tried to drown themselves in raspberry hard seltzers. We didn’t. . . No. . . Did we? “Just tired. I have a busy day. Lots to do.”
“Yeah, sure.” His wary gaze tells me he doesn’t believe me. I don’t believe me. But I need him to leave so I can put together the pieces of last night. He walks to the door, and I trail behind. Opening the door, he turns, and I’m so out of whack, I almost walk into him. What’s wrong with me? “Whoa there.” His arms wrap around my waist. My eyes shoot up to his, then drop to his lips. God, he has nice lips. . .
“Friends don’t kiss, remember?”
My mind is in a fog. It takes me a moment to pull my eyes away. My brain catches up, and his comment triggers a memory of last night.
“Question. Do friends kiss?”
“No. It would give the wrong impression.”
I try to lick my lips, but my throat is suddenly dry. “It’s the furthest thing from my mind.”
Sound believable. Sound believable.
He reaches forward, and I swear he’s going to pull me into him. He’s going to kiss me. I’ll allow it this once—I’m confused, horny, and seriously attracted to him—then I’ll come to my senses later—
His hand raises, and his thumb brushes against the side of my lip. “You have a bit of drool. . . crusted.”
Goddammit.
“Weren’t you just—?”
“Leaving? Yeah.”
“Yeah. . .” He opens the door to make his escape.
“Oh, hey!” Jenny stands in my doorway.
Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fuuuck!
“Hey. I was just leaving.”
She eyes us both, then addresses Ben. “Did you—?”
“Just stopped by. She left her phone in my car. See ya around.” Without another glance, he walks off, climbing into his Jeep.
Jenny turns back to me, and I smile, internally slapping myself. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. I was bringing you coffee. You look like shit.”
“I feel like shit. Why did you let me drink that much?”