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His stick lifts in slow motion, pointing. At me. Carter Beckett points his damn stick right at me. And he winks. He fucking winks. For you, his perfect lips mouth to me. Oh. No.
CARTER MF BECKETT OWNS MY SOUL
“Shut up.” I smile up at him. “I’ll see you on New Year’s Eve.” He nods. “Not a date.” “Not a date,” I repeat. Then he shuts the door, hits me with two finger guns, and yells, “It’s a date!”
not the finger guns. JAIL.
Her wide eyes lock on mine, cheeks blazing, hand hanging there in midair, holding on to a… A goddamn Oreo. Woman’s my fucking soul mate. The silence is deafening. No one’s
I LOVE OREOS. WHERES MY OREO SOULMATE? *cries*
There’s a startled half scream from inside the small house when I finally ring the doorbell. “Shit. Fuck me. He’s early. I’m not ready.” I glance at my watch. I’m one minute and thirty-two seconds early. And as I mentioned, I’ve actually been here for twenty minutes, sitting in my car. I got out three times, made it up the front steps, and then turned around and hightailed it back to the car.
I am Olivia. Olivia is me.
“It’s been an emotional day for all of us.” Carter points at the four-tiered cake. “Even the cake is in tiers.” I drop my forehead to my hand as the room explodes with laughter. “Oh sweet Lord.”
Carter with the JOKES
