AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Shouldn’t have to.
“Did he enjoy it?” I ask, and he’s staring at me.
“Huh…” He blinks, pushing dark hair out of his eyes, and dear God, his scruff is a shade darker today, and a golden suntan on his face makes his blue eyes brighter. “Enjoy what?”
What, indeed. The scene I’ve been brainstorming for the past two days flashes through my synapses like an electric storm, burning out what connections were still live.
“Enjoy you. Your gift. Enjoy your…” Don’t say it, don’t say it. “Your banana gift. Oh God, I mean your cookbook gift.”
Why did I say it?
I would like to be buried under this spot, please, with a sign that says, “Here lies Candy who could never put her mouth to good use. But given the chance, she would have given good head.”
“Haven’t given it to him yet. Hey, I’ll need your help again,” Joel is saying, and I blink to find him gesturing toward the nearest shelves stacked with books.
“Anything.” I cough. “You need. Book-wise. Obviously.”
He gives me a long look under which my cheeks warm, heat, burst into flames and blister. ?
?Yeah. I need a book.”
Of course he does. Of course that’s why he’s here. In a bookshop.
I can’t be trusted to speak with handsome guys in public. Or private. I mean, I’ll either stare open-mouthed, like it happened with Jethro at the concert, or talk until every stupid thing anyone on earth has ever come up with has seen the light of day.
“No bananas this time?” I ask and bite my tongue so hard my eyes water. “Or other fruit? Other recipes, I mean. Other…”
Shut. Up. Now.
I wait for him to speak, gritting my teeth.
“I’m looking for something about… history,” he says.
Come again? “History,” I make myself repeat. “What period?”
“Ancient.”
All right… He’s joking, right? Star athlete, graduated with a business degree, party animal and serial one-night-stander, that’s who he is. Not a history nerd. Is this… is he trying to impress me?
Haha, good one, Candy.
“An overview, right.” I tap my fingers on the shelves, unable for the life of me to remember if we have any such book. “Or did you want something specific?”
“Middle Eastern,” he says firmly.
“Mesopotamian?” I want to see how far he’ll go. “Assyrian, maybe?We have this one here.”
“What?”
When I turn back toward him, the blue of his eyes seems darker, and a light flush colors his cheekbones.
Right. He has no clue.
I’m disappointed.
And once more, what the heck, Candy? Expectations, again? Didn’t we decide they suck? Did you expect real-life Joel to not only be a hunk, but also interesting, interested in topics you like, sensitive and all-around perfect? Hello? Real life?
A threesome sex act probably sucks, too, in reality. I mean, you’re only just trying to imagine the logistics. In your head. With your imagination. Because it turns you on.
