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Slow. Searching. Tasting. Learning.
Glancing up, I make sure no one is paying attention to me before I read what she wrote on the Post-it.
I like that part too. It made me shiver.
There are lots of ways I could make this girl shiver.
I left you a pen so you can highlight whatever you want. A favorite line. A meaningful one. I highlighted what I liked in chapter fifteen in pink.
Without hesitation, I flip to chapter fifteen in search of what she liked, finding it quickly.
With sweaty palms I exit the dressing room, clad in the red dress he chose for me. He stands the moment he sees me, his eyes darkening I can tell.
He likes the dress.
He likes it on me.
“Get it,” he says.
“But—”
“Get it,” he repeats.
I smile and he smiles in return. He wants me.
I want him too.
So much.
Ignoring the book, I lift my head and stare off into space, thinking. Daisy opened up to me earlier, in the office. Explaining why she’s so closed off. Why she wants to protect her heart. My mommy issues comment was right on the mark, but that doesn’t make it okay that I said it.
I should’ve never said those words to her but I’m a heartless dick who speaks before he thinks, like I can’t help myself.
Most of the time, I can’t. My impulse control is nonexistent, according to my parents.
This passage I just read tells me she wants to be beautiful for someone else. She wants to be noticed. The earlier passage tells me she wants to be kissed.
I’m willing to do both for her—tell her she’s beautiful and kiss her. But she acts so damn scared most of the time, I’m worried she’ll bail the moment I try.
Nelson calls my name and I slide my attention to her, my brows up in question.
“Do you understand this segment?”
Nodding, I say, “Absolutely.”
Her smile is pleased and she doesn’t challenge me further. “Good. Let’s continue.”
I thumb through the book when I can, trying not to look suspicious, and I finally find a scene I like. I grab the pen Daisy left me and uncap it, then carefully underline the sentences I like the best.
I am no artist so I don’t bother drawing anything on the page. She’s lucky she’s getting the highlighter. That’s about as far as I’ll take it.
And I can’t believe I’m taking it this far. I would never do this kind of sappy shit for a girl. Not a single one of them means anything to me enough to want to do this. I’m putting in a lot of effort when in the past, I’ve put in zero.
They all just come running. Surrounding me. Clamoring for me. Wanting me.
Look at Cadence. I could go to her right now and tell her to spread her legs and she would. She’s that into me. That eager to please me.
But it doesn’t feel real. It doesn’t feel right. Cadence and the rest of them don’t give a shit about me. Not really. They care about what I can do for them, being seen with me. My last name and the money and prestige that comes with it. To spend time with a Lancaster makes people feel special and I guess I get it.
