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)
Honestly.
What a moron.
A devilishly handsome one.
And if he’s expecting me to spout off all the things he’s told me about himself while under the guise of Drew, he’s sadly mistaken. I could stand here awkwardly all night for this stare down contest we seem to be having.
All.
Night.
Long.
He doesn’t know that I know he was playing Drew—he also doesn’t know that his brother and I are conspiring against him. So what fun would it be for me to turn tail and run back to the bedroom?
Zero fun.
“I just want to thank you again for setting me up with your brother.” I reach out and run a finger down his bicep. “I never in a million years would have gone out with him after he pissed me off in class, then had the audacity to match with me on the dating app.” I giggle.
twenty-four
drake
Is it a one night stand if we do it again in the morning?
Naturally, I was standing in the hallway with my thumb up my own ass when Daisy opened the bathroom door, gawking at it as if it were a movie screen about to entertain me.
She did not look surprised to see me.
“I never in a million years would have gone out with him after he pissed me off in class, then had the audacity to match with me on the dating app.” She giggles, touching a long strand of hair falling over her shoulder.
Tee shirt.
Joggers.
Gray from head to toe but somehow fucking adorable.
“How did he piss you off in class?”
“He was annoying. Can’t sit still.”
“Because that class is fucking boring,” I mutter.
“Oh,” Daisy says. “Have you taken Mass Comm before?”
“No. He complains a lot, though.”
Her head tilts to the side, and it seems as if she’s studying my face, eyes straying to my eyebrows and hairline.
Stay homed in on that scar I have.
Surely, she’s noticed Drew doesn’t have one. Surely, she’s—
“Well. I have to get back. We’re about to play truth or dare, and he’s got the oils out.”
Oils?
What the fuck.
What does that even mean?
I bite my tongue.
“Have fun,” I tell her even though my gut is churning.
Her eyes narrow the barest of moments and if I hadn’t been studying her face, I wouldn’t have caught it.
But they did.
Interesting.
Rather than going into the bathroom as I pretended I had to do, I stay in the doorframe watching Daisy retreat back to my brother's bedroom. As she's walking, she glances over her shoulder and gives me a little smile and a little wave before slowly turning the knob and disappearing back inside.
I try to shrug it off.
I try telling myself that this is what I wanted. But there is no shaking this feeling; there's no faking that my stomach is in knots and this entire situation feels awful.
I walk backward into my room and shut the door before collapsing onto my bed for the second time tonight, arm falling over my eyes. I don't even have the temperament to stare up at the ceiling—I just want Daisy to go home, so I don't have to listen to them laughing and talking through the thin walls.
And what’s this bullshit about playing truth or dare.
And oils?
What oils?!
Essential oils or…
Sex oils.
Jesus Christ.
I turn the television on, not wanting to hear the sounds coming from down the hall, or the creaking of the house and god forbid I have to hear the sound of a squeaking bed.
No.
Daisy isn’t the kind of girl who bangs some dude on date number two and neither is my brother, so the fact that they’re even playing truth or dare is putting me over the edge.
Daring?
Drew isn’t daring in the least, not by a long shot.
In fact, I can’t remember a single time he’s ever brought a girl home and hung out in his room. It’s usually the living room if they’re not down to fuck.
Not that he’s into that, either.
Drew is more of a relationship guy; I am not.
I am not.
Aren’t I?
Why am I even questioning this. I know what I want and don’t want, and I wasn’t on that dating app to catch feelings or a girlfriend—I was there for my brother.
Which I’ve pointed out to myself ten million times, yet here I am needing to drill it home again.
If I gave a shit, wouldn’t I be able to concentrate on something else instead of drowning out the noises in the house? Would I have gone in the hallway pretending I had to take a piss, just so I could accidentally bump into Daisy?
My brother’s girlfriend.
Drew’s girlfriend.
They went on one date, dude.
But we spoke for two weeks before that and had a blast, so they formed a connection.
We formed a connection.
So?
I have plenty of friends, and I can be her friend too once this stops being weird.
I punch my pillow at the same time I hear a loud, obnoxious laugh.