Not over a few simple words.
“Don’t be a fucking wuss,” she says. “Tell him.”
“Who are you, the I Love You police?”
“Might be,” she grumbled.
“I don't know. Maybe I'll tell him this weekend.”
“How long have you known?”
Half a year, I muse.
Since I walked him back to his car after the pool that night.
“For a while,” I say.
Closing the tailgate I hook my arm around her shoulders.
“Thank you, Veronika.”
“Eww,” she recoils. “Never call me that.”
“Noted.”
Climbing back into the driver’s seat, I start the engine.
“Don't get cum all over my tent,” she warns.
“We'll leave the door unzipped,” I tease.
Driving away, I blow her a kiss.
She flips a middle finger in my rearview mirror.
But her smile is forgiving.
???
Soon after I return from Talia’s, my phone buzzes on the dashboard.
Almost donexx
Marco emerges from the salon looking fine as fuck.
How on earth is he mine?
And how am I meant to behave, driving in close proximity for an entire week?
I wolf whistle from the window.
“Hey hottie, can I get your number?”
He opens the passenger door.
A musky aroma drifts on the breeze.
“That depends. Do your kisses leave a man weak at the knees?”
