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)
“No. Did you?”
“Well, no. But I see it in the movies all the time.” When Drake swallows, my eyes home in on his Adam’s apple and throat, then I swallow too. “No telling where hands can roam like that in the dark.”
I gulp.
This sex ban was a great idea, this sex ban was a great idea, this sex ban was a great idea…
Yup. So great.
thirty-eight
drake
Date One
This is going to be a breeze.
The movies?
Please.
Give me a more difficult task to get through; sitting next to Daisy, watching a horror movie is like being at home watching a horror movie except tonight I get hot dogs and popcorn and other snacks.
I’ve already eaten half her chocolate—which it turns out, she’s pretty pissed about. She said she’d been “saving up” for them all afternoon.
Whoops.
If I thought she was pretty in broad daylight, Daisy in the dim, theater lighting makes me want to recline this seat all the way back and pull her into my lap, the cup holders separating us be damned.
They lift to create more room, but Daisy wasn’t having it. Already tried.
She brought a blanket; you think she’d let me put my hand beneath it?
Wrong!
“It’s like you’re wrapped up in a body condom,” I joke, side-eyeing her cocoon-like situation, legs wrapped like two bacon wrapped sausages. Or something.
Leave me alone. I’m horrible with metaphors.
“Thanks. I’m so comfortable.” She wiggles her feet, but I can’t see them under her fuzzy blanket with its boy band members’ faces—but she is holding the bucket of popcorn steady between us, and I sink my hand into it, rooting around for butter-soaked kernels.
The movie?
Eh.
Barely paying attention.
Zombies or some shit, the movie theater is replaying Halloween movies that are months old as part of some marathon. A theater that’s practically empty except for three teenage boys in the front row, the idiots. Who sits that close to the screen unless the theater is packed and those were the only available seats?
Dumbasses.
They’re loud and throwing snacks. I can see it from here.
“They’re lucky they’re not sitting anywhere near us,” I grumble, irritated.
“Oh yeah? What would you do if they were?”
I shrug, popping kernels into my mouth. “Say somethin’.”
Daisy laughs. “Ooo, you’d say something. What a tough guy.”
“Teenage boys are morons,” I inform her.
“Were you a moron when you were younger?”
“Me?” I scoff. “Hell no.”
“Of course not.” She’s laughing, digging her fingers into the small box of chocolate Snowcaps she’s peeled the wrapper off as soon as we got here, holding it up and trying to peer inside. “I still can’t believe you ate most of these. When I offered you some, I didn’t mean ‘put the box to your mouth and dump half of them in.’”
“If I’d known you were gonna be mad about it, I wouldn’t have.” Which is a lie—I most certainly would have. I love chocolate but usually don’t buy it. I’ll steal a piece if I find it in Coach’s office or I’m at a friend’s house.
So her chocolate is a treat, and I’m not sorry I scarfed most of it down.
Barely tasted it, if I’m being honest, not that I’d admit that to her.
Better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission.
Daisy lets the matter drop, searching for the button on our chairs that reclines the seat, moving it back so her feet lift higher.
I do the same.
On the screen, the zombie’s chasing some dude down the middle of a city street, bearing down on him. Three seconds later, the dude is on the ground getting his fucking neck gnawed off.
In the cupholder to my right, my phone lights up.
I glance at it.
Shannon.
Seriously?
She rarely texts me, and all of the damn sudden, she’s decided to come at me hard in an attempt to get me to take her out? I told her I was seeing someone, so this isn’t fucking cool.
We were fuck buddies. We were not and never will be dating.
Period.
End of story.
I ignore the message. Don’t even touch my phone, hoping it doesn’t light up again ’cause if Daisy sees it, she’s gonna feel a certain kind of way about it, and I’m not in the mood to get my ass chewed out for something I have no control over.
On second thought.
I do.
While the zombies on the screen chase their next victims, I swipe on Shannon’s profile in my phone. Scroll down, thumb hovering over BLOCK THIS CONTACT.
thirty-nine
daisy
Date Two
“How did I not know this place existed?”
My date—who came suited up in all black apparel—shrugs his broad shoulders, shoulder harness strapped across his chest.
He looks like an action figure doll, big muscles and determined expression.
“We used to come here all the time when Dallas lived at home.” He unstraps the Velcro laser gun, the loud resounding rrrriipppp has me rolling my eyes for the second time.
“You’ve gotten yourself readjusted at least four times. This isn’t a big deal.”