Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
The day I tried the tampon and it wouldn’t go, I told Josie my vagina was broken.
Josie: This might also be why your periods are so painful.
I keep reading the article that talks about some girls being too tight down there and how it can potentially exacerbate the pain associated with periods. There are also tips on how to try and fix the issue.
Me: It suggests surgery!
Josie: But it will be fixed! Then you can have sex.
There’s no way I'm asking my mom for surgery to stretch my vagina. How mortifying. I think that’s part of why I don’t want to bring it up. She’ll want to talk about me having sex and who I’m thinking of having sex with.
Nash’s stupid face comes to mind. Sex has been on my mind a lot lately in general. More than I’m willing to admit. It feels like I’m always horny, and no matter how often I masturbate, it’s not enough.
Josie says the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Since I've known her, she hasn’t gotten under anyone, so I’m not sure if I can trust this idea.
I try googling things myself and end up falling into a few Reddit forums. I make a post of my own, and it’s not long before my inbox starts to fill up with private messages.
“Oh my god!” I’m horrified by the dick pic someone sent me and throw my phone across the room.
“Hello to you too.”
I gasp as I sit up in bed, and that’s when I see Nash standing in the doorway of my room. My phone is on the floor in front of him. Has he never heard of knocking?!
He starts to bend down to pick up my phone, and panic hits me. “No!” I scramble off the bed, dashing toward him.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” He holds the phone up over his head, and I jump, trying to get it from him. Why is he so damn tall? And why am I so short? This is bullshit.
“Give me my phone,” I demand.
“What’s on it that you don’t want me to see?” He turns it around so he can see the screen but keeps it up in the air out of my reach.
“Give it back, you jerk!” I jump higher and notice the screen is locked. “Thank God.” I stop jumping and sigh with relief before I drop my head against his chest. His rich scent surrounds me, and that’s when I realize what I’m doing. “Oh crap.” I hop backward to put distance between us. Was I really rubbing up against him while jumping?
"Unlock it," he orders.
"No." I take another two steps back as I look him over.
He's in slacks and a button-down shirt. The sleeves are rolled up, giving me a view of his forearms, and I’m surprised to see he’s got tattoos. I didn't know he had any because he’s always in a suit. Normally Nash wears a tie and jacket, but right now, they are long gone.
"Who are you texting?"
"Josie."
"You're lying."
"Actually, it’s the truth." I hold my hand out, waiting for him to give me my phone back. Nash glares at me, causing my knees to weaken. I think it's supposed to scare me, and it does, but not in the way he's imagining or hoping, I'm sure. I'm the annoying little girl that has taken over his family home.
“Is this the same Josie you snuck out with a few weeks ago?"
"I know you’re the one who snitched on me." Now I’m the one glaring at him.
I'm beginning to believe that he and the sophisticated security system he has on this house have eyes everywhere.
His smirk is brief before it swiftly slides away. "She took you to a party."
"So? I'm a senior in high school."
"You're a little girl."
"Not anymore." I have an urge to challenge the issue with him.
"Goldie." He says my name like a warning as he steps toward me. "I promise you it's for your own good that I keep thinking of you as a little girl."
Without another word, Nash turns away and leaves me standing there. I’m wondering what the hell that means as he closes the door behind him.
Shit, he still has my phone!
Chapter Two
NASH
Before Goldie realizes I’ve still got her phone and demands it back, I hurry down the hall to my old room. I haven’t lived here in years, but my dad hasn’t changed a thing. It’s still exactly how it was set up when I left for college, which isn’t too far from the way my home is set up now. It’s organized, purposeful, and without color.
I’m aware that my life doesn’t include pretty things. It’s designed for function and results. At least it was until Goldie came crashing into it.
The first time my dad introduced me to Rebecca, I could tell she was different. I assumed he dated at some point during my life, but if he did, he was never serious. Or serious enough to introduce me to them. When he invited me out to dinner to meet his girlfriend, I could see that she wouldn’t remain a girlfriend for long. He was eager to get a ring on her finger and run off into the sunset.