Page 61 of Tell Me I'm Enough

“Edwards,” I shout over my shoulder as I turn around, heading towards the front door, “let’s go.”

“What?”

I turn back around to see her hands on her hips.

“Come on,” I tell her, pointing to the door.

“But I’m in PJs…”

I shrug. “Looks like you’re dry enough to get in my car. Should be a fun trip.”

She throws her hands up, huffing.

I reach for the door, smile, open it, and wait for her to walk out before closing it behind us.

“Why me?” she asks as we’re walking over to the Sig house to get in my car.

I smile over at her. “Why not you? Any other girl would have been boring to take.”

Her pout turns into a smile, and she shakes her head at me. “Fine, let’s just hurry this up and get back. You’re also buying me a pint of ice cream as payment that I’ll be eating in your car on the way back, so the other girls don’t steal it.”

I let out a laugh. “Deal…butImight steal some on the way back.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “We’ll see.”

We make it back to the house, and I grab my keys from inside. When I walk back outside, I hit the unlock button on my keys that lights up my Lexus RC F.

I watch Simone look over to the car, and she shakes her head. “I knew it.”

“Knew what?” I ask, walking around to the passenger side and opening the door for her.

She walks over and gets in, looking back up at me. “I told you all assholes come from money.”

I rest my arms on the door frame and lean my head down to look at her. “How about I just come from money, and we can drop the asshole part?”

She studies me for a second, then presses her lips together like she’s thinking about it. “The prank y’all pulled isn’t helping your case…but you might still be able to earn the dropage of assholery if you get me that ice cream.”

I nod. “I think I can do more than the bare minimum of buying you ice cream to earn it.”

I close her door and walk around to the driver’s side, sliding into my seat.

We run into the store, grab everything Ryan texted me we need, and Simone grabs her precious ice cream before we check out.

She tried to grab some of the grocery bags, and I swatted at her hands. She just laughed and put her hands up as I grabbed all of them.

I pop the trunk when we’re back outside and throw most of the bags in, except the one with her ice cream and the two spoons I grabbed from the bakery section.

I don’t unlock the car until I’m back on her side to open her door up. I can already tell her autopilot is set to independent, and I like challenging that.

She gets in without arguing, and I hand her the bag. “Wait until I get in the car before you devour it. You picked my favorite flavor, so I’mdefinitelystealing some.”

She hugs the small pint to her chest like it’s a newborn baby, and I laugh, closing her door.

We’re driving back to campus when Simone takes over the radio. Some Taylor Swift song comes on, and she gets so excited that she turns it up as loud as it’ll go. It makes me smile watching her start to sing with no care in the world, windows rolled down,PJs on, and ice cream in her hands with the spoon still in her mouth.

She pops the spoon out to fully shout the lyrics, and then she starts using the spoon as a mic, leaning it toward me to sing with her.

“I’m sorry to burst your bubble,” I tell her, “but I amnota Swiftie.”