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This message is for the cute girl in the beater who was staring at me at the light. Hope this is you. You should text me. 547-555-4119
“Because joking with my friend’s girlfriend is one thing but screwing her in the kitchen is probably against the roommate agreement, don’t you think?”
Why didn’t he notice you were wearing my shirt before you left his room?”
“Want to know a secret, Sunshine?” His tongue darts out between his lips, and his gaze drops to my mouth, then flicks back to my eyes. “I would’ve noticed.” He walks away but pauses near the stairs. “And you’re right. You and I don’t know each other. But I’ll let you keep the shirt. It looks good on you.”
But when you’re the villain in your own story, it’s hard to stop yourself from fighting for the opposite in someone else’s. Even if it’s only for a minute.
“Then, you’re not allowed to be jealous,” he growls. “I’m not jealous.” “Could’ve fooled me.”
“Tell me, Sunshine.” He pauses, and I hold my breath. “Did he notice?”
“The sheets are tempting,” I rasp. “But I think I still prefer you in my T-shirt.”
“You’re a ray of sunshine, Ash. You’re the only thing I’ve been looking forward to since I moved back. Maybe even before then,” he admits, his eyes going hazy. “Since my dad died.”
“I think I might even see you in white one day, walking down an aisle toward me.”
