Page 55 of P.S. I Loathe You


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Ryan just chuckles. He drops his head to give Lola’s mass of dark curls a kiss. “Hey baby, how about you go watch your video in the playroom?”

Lola peers up from the phone to glance between me and her dad. “Are you talking about grown up things?”

Ryan nods. “Yep.”

“Okay then, Daddy.” With a bright smile, she scoots off Ryan’s lap and bounds from the room, phone in hand.

“I can’t believe you let her use your phone,” I muse. “Don’t you worry she’s going to rack up a bunch of charges making calls to Argentina or something?”

Ryan just shrugs. “I have a pretty extensive phone plan.”

I roll my eyes. Yep, Lola definitely has her father wrapped around her little finger.

“So,” Ryan says, getting back to the topic at hand. “You and Wes are getting all snuggly, huh? Does this mean there might be somefeelingsinvolved?”

“No, of course not. Unless you count feelings of loathing.”

Ryan casts me a look filled with so much scepticism it makes me squirm in my seat. And, okay,maybehe has a point. I’m still not ready to admit that I actuallylikeWes, but I can definitely allow for the fact that what I’m experiencing with him is different to anything I’ve ever had with anyone before. I’ve never wanted anyone as desperately as I want him. I’ve never connected with anyone else on the same physical level as I do with him. And I’ve never felt so comfortable with anyone else. It’s absolutely mind-boggling to me, because this isWes Holt.Ihatethis guy. There’s no world in which I should feel remotely comfortable in his presence, let alone his bed. And yet…I do.

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