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I zone out while shoveling ice cream into my mouth, thinking about the way he touched my cheek, how strangely gratifying it felt when he said that one word: lovely. He didn’t call me pretty or say you look nice. This was different. It was…approval.
What a ridiculous thing to feel so good about, some stranger’s praise. Not even a stranger, really. Beau’s dad.
When love becomes toxic, it’s not love anymore.
“I think you dated a jerk because you think you deserve a jerk.” I glance up at her, my brow creased in confusion. “Dude, you’re fourteen! How are you so wise?” “I read smart books,” she replies with a laugh.
“Oh, then I guess I’ll have to show Mom your e-reader. Let’s see how smart she thinks Mating the Werewolf is.”
“You’re such a good girl, Charlotte.” My shoulders relax, seeming to melt down at my sides as I gaze up at him, those beautiful words washing over me like warm water. Suddenly, I’m all gooey and compliant, like that one little phrase put me in a trance. He could literally do anything to me in this state.
“Because I didn’t expect you to be so perfect. I had no idea keeping my hands off you would be this hard. And then I walked in that day and found you on your knees…”
“Jesus Christ, Charlotte. You have no idea what you do to me.”
