AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I kissed her. Our friends needed to see it,” I go on at Lil’s knowing look. “But she’s barely spoken to mesince.”
She hops up on the counter, eyeing me over her prize. “Was it a goodkiss?"
I remember the feel of Daisy's mouth under mine, how fucking perfect she felt—right up until the second she pulled back. "Yeah, it was a goodkiss."
Lily nods. “Then that's why she'spissed."
“For an economist, you’re actingirrationally.”
She tosses back her head and laughs. “For a self-made man, you’re acting like adumbass.”
I frown, but shecontinues.
“She’s been walking around in a bad mood for days. I mentioned your name and she nearly decapitatedme.”
Interesting. Daisy’s not usuallygrouchy.
"You're saying… she liked it but she wishes shedidn’t?"
Lily stares me down as if I'm dimmer than the burnt-out bulb shereplaced.
But if Daisy liked it, that means… Shit. I don’t know what the fuck that means, or what I want it tomean.
“Do you like my sister?” Lilyasks.
This week, I’ve been thinking of Daisy more thanusual.
The guilt over what happened with Vi is still there, but so is something new. Not only an awareness, but aneed.
Even if it is real… I can’t be looking for that. Xavier’s wrong about one thing—a relationship is a surefire way to undermine everything I’ve built, not reinforceit.
“It’s complicated,” Isay.
Her gaze narrows. “Economics major. I eat complicated forbreakfast.”
“Apparently you eatdonuts.”
She ignores me. “Decide if you like her. Then fucking actaccordingly."
I can't have romantic feelings for Daisy. I respect her, I care about her as much as my own family, and the other night, I got caught up in what we wereselling.
Adults don’t run around feeling everything, and they sure as hell don’t make life-altering decisions on the basis of feelings—unless they want to be like my mom or that Hollywood producer, slaves to their emotions and whatever asshole pulls on them for the rest of theirlives.
Before I can tell Lily that, the sound of the door has us bothturning.
Daisy walks in, stilling in the foyer when she sees us. “What’s goingon?”
She’s wearing jeans that hug every curve, high-heeled sandals, and a white cap sleeved T-shirt.
Since when do tits look that good in a damned T-shirt?
“Ben and I were talking about school,” her sister says. “He—”
“Lily,” I cut in, “had some ideas and wanted to bounce them offsomeone.”
Lily’s grateful expression iseverything.
"How was breakfast?" Iask.
