no thx
Sent from my iPhone
Really, I should block him.
Sadie’s first downstairs. Today she's wearing denim cutoffs and a white cotton top, her red curls loose down her back, eyes still soft with sleep.
I think I might actually give up one of my guitar-playing fingers if it meant I got to watch her wake up in my bed,those red curls strewn across my pillow, those blue eyes blinking up at me.
But those are dangerous thoughts to have.
I need to lock them away in a vault and throw away the key.
“Good morning,” she says with a yawn. She stretches, and the top rides up, showing more creamy skin.
She looks like she rolled straight out of bed and into the kitchen, and it’s a really fucking sexy look. She’s not even trying to be enticing. She just is.
And I… I need to be looking at literally anything else.
I pick my coffee cup.
“Morning. Sleep good?”
“Yeah. That mattress is the nicest I’ve ever slept on. What’d you do, pluck an angel’s wings and stuff the bed with them?”
More like paid an obscene amount of money for overnight delivery of the same kind of mattress the Queen of Brunei sleeps on.
I'd spent all afternoon telling myself I didn't want her here, and then stayed up until midnight making sure she'd be comfortable when she arrived.
“Something like that,” I say.
“How did you sleep?” she asks.
Huh. First time someone’s asked me that in a long time.
“Fine. Coffee’s on the pot for you.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
Look at us, having a civil conversation. This is good.
Too bad I’m about to ruin it.
“I need your keys,” I tell her.
She tilts her head. “Why?”
“I’m getting you new tires.”
The sleepy, peaceful look vanishes. “Walker, I took them to the tire shop already and they said they were fine for now.”
“I say different.”
“I can’t afford it yet.”
“I’m paying.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
