I didn’t want her to think I was a jackass that had sex with her, only to then forget she existed, but I guess the tables have flipped.
Turning my back on her, just like she’s done to me, I reach for the door handle, but then I feel a hand on my back. My muscles tense at her delicate touch.
“I’m sorry.”
I don’t turn to face her.
She continues softly, “A lot is going on right now, and I’m so confused. I really didn’t think you would care if I didn’t text you back right away.”
“I don’t bang and dash.” I glare over at the door before facing her. The fingers that were on my back move to the middle of my chest.
“I know. I never thought you would,” she nearly whispers.
“Really?” I muse, raising a brow with a grim look on my face.
“Yeah.” The small smile that lifts her lips causes my heart to skip a beat.
Oh shit, I love that sight.
“I think that’s only your insecurities; it’s all in your head.”
“What?” I chuckle, moving closer until the toes of our shoes are touching and she has to stretch her neck to look at me.
“You don’t think people see you as lovable—that’s why you had to tell me you don’t bang and dash,” she states, chipping a piece of my heart and stealing it from me. “We have a lot more in common than we think.”
“And how did you come to that conclusion?” I ask even though it’s like she’s reading my mind.
“Because we always reflect our fears on other people.”
Nodding without saying anything for a couple of seconds, I whisper, “What’s going on that has you so stressed?”
I need to change the topic off of me as soon as possible because there’s nothing worse than being vulnerable.
“Well, where do I start?” She laughs, but it’s not full of humor. “I moved out into my own place.”
That surprises me. “Where? Is the neighborhood safe?”
“Yes, it’s safe. I moved into our old house that’s only a couple of blocks away from where my brothers live.”
Nodding, I send her a smirk. “Your brothers piss you off that much?”
She sighs, placing a hand on her hip, full of sass. She and my sister would be great friends, I swear to God.
“You and my brothers will never stop, will you?”
“Does it rain pigs?”
“Well, no—”
“Then, there’s your answer,” I interrupt with a childish smirk on my face.
“You’re something else, Meathead.” She rolls her eyes, matching my flirty energy perfectly. “You should write children’s songs. I think that’s your age group.”
“I think I would get sued.” I shiver at the thought of singing about different colors and animals.
“Probably jail time.”
“Yeah, I’ll stick to writing about sex.”
