Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
Crew shakes his head, his big-ass arms crossing over his broad-ass chest. “Why not let that happen?”
My head tugs back. “You want me to ask Drew to take my virginity?”
“Fuck no.”
“Then what are you saying?”
He growls, pushing closer until he’s directly before me. “I’m saying why not wait for it to happen naturally. Why not wait until you find someone you actually want, who wants you back, and let it happen like that?”
Okay, ouch.
My chest pinkens, and I look down, but he hates when I do that, so before his knuckles can lift my chin, I reach out and catch his fingers in mine, holding them between us.
“I get it,” I whisper, slowly looking up into his dark, scornful eyes. “Honest, I do, but I don’t want that. That’s just a whole new level of anxiety for me.”
“What do you mean?” he wonders, the muscles in his palm relaxing.
“If I answer that, it will be a whole new level of embarrassing for me.”
Crew’s still for a moment, and then the corner of his lips quirk up a bit.
“Oh, this must be good, Baby Franco.” His words are forced, as is the half grin, both completely for my benefit, but that’s the beauty of it. Of him. “’Cause you didn’t so much as blush when you told me to slide inside you and ‘pop’ your—”
“Oh god!” I cut him off, my hand releasing his and joining the other to shield my face. “I totally said that. Sound effects and all.”
His body jostles as if to laugh, but no sound escapes.
Stretching my fingers apart, I peek at him through the small gap. His amusement hasn’t fully faded, so I allow my arms to fall.
“Are you hungry?” I blurt out instead. “I have frozen pizzas?”
He looks away, and I’m sure he’s about to leave, but then he looks back, something I can’t quite reach hidden in his eyes. “What kind?”
My smile spreads, and I skip to the freezer.
This is good.
A start.
Now to find a way to get him to deflower me…
Crew
“Are all those pizzas in there yours?” I joke, finishing off my water. “Your mom would have a fit if she knew you were eating frozen shit every day.”
Davis leans forward, snagging a pineapple off the lone piece left and tossing it in her mouth. “I do pizza and movie night with my friend Jess next door at least once a week, but I bailed last time when I woke up with a jackhammer attached to my temples.”
“That’s what you get for letting Drew serve you after seventy-seven percent of a wine bottle.”
“Yeah.” She grins to herself. “That didn’t go well with the froufrou vodka drink he gave me. It was delicious, but my body was really pissed at what I did to it.”
“About that body of yours and what you want me to do to it.” I shift, facing her fully from the opposite side of the couch. “Why are you so serious about us fucking?”
She knocks back what’s left in her orange soda can as if she’s shotgunning a beer and looks to me. “Is it necessary to discuss this in dirty terms?”
“Is it necessary to fuck under dirty terms?”
“Oh my god.”
“Yeah, women say that when it’s good.”
“Okay!” She throws her hands up, adjusting as I had, so she’s facing me. “I get it. Got it. You want me to get to the point, blah blah blah. On it.”
Davis takes a long breath, and finally, her almond-shaped eyes meet mine.
“What if I find someone, fall into this epic love, like The Notebook kind of shit, and everything is perfect and then we have sex and he hates it? Or what if I hate it?” She scoots forward. “Holy crap, what if it’s catastrophically awful and—”
My laughter is unexpected and has her mouth closing, a small smile pulling at her lips.
“Okay, rare, epic love aside.” She folds her hands in her lap, her shoulders falling. “Is it really that horrible of an idea?”
An instant sourness coats my throat, but before I can say anything, she rushes to continue.
“Okay sure.” She tips her head back and forth. “One day, you’ll look my future husband in the eye and think, ‘I fucked your wife,’ because that is just so you, but who cares? I’ll be thinking the same thing every time you introduce a new girlfriend.”
“Oh, so you get a husband, and I don’t get a wife?”
“Oh please, Casanova.” She draws her feet up onto the cushion, laying her chin on her knees. “You’d have to allow yourself to love someone to have a wife, and before you say you do love someone, my family doesn’t count.”
She’s not being mean; in fact, the entire conversation is slightly playful, even though I’m damn sure she’s serious. She’s an oddball like that, but still. That last part stings.