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“What are you doing here?” His gaze climbs my sweats and traps me. “I’m groveling.” I blink. “Groveling?” “Mm.” He produces a bouquet from behind his back. “Grovels start with flowers.”
His passive-aggressive dig at my apartment brings me back to my senses. “I have a trash can you can use. You can throw yourself in it too, if you’d like.”
“Are you calling me fat?” He practically punches the tap off. “Baby, I’m calling you a girl who eats two dinners every single night. That’s just a fact. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” He turns, leans against the sink, and studies me. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?” My throat dries up, and I shake my head slowly. “You don’t deserve easy.”
“I’m trying to make it up to you. Trying to show you how much I care about you.” His eyes lift to mine, soft and tinged with something that doesn’t suit him. Desperation. “I’m groveling, Queenie. But you need to let me.”
“Why are you bothering?” His gaze is lazy, trained on the windshield as he pulls out onto the road. “Because I love you,” he says simply.
REF DO SOMETHINGGGGGG
“So from now on, I’m believing I’m lucky.” His hand slides over my thigh and floods warmth through my core. “I’m lucky that you let me take you out on a date, aren’t I?”
“Invite me up for coffee, at least.” I laugh. “No chance.”
His grip on my hair tightens. “I’m getting a goodnight kiss, and that’s non-negotiable.”
“The Birkin didn’t work then?” I glance behind me to see Rory has joined her husband at the top of the stairs. “Which one?”
I KNOW THATS RIGHT
“You’re late,” is all she says. I open the door for her and study her ass as she climbs into her seat. “And you’re beautiful.”
“You don’t want money; you don’t want gifts. I’ve apologized a million times. How do I make this right, baby?” She’s trembling. Fucking trembling. I want to crawl inside her and make it stop.
“There was never a malicious intent. The novelty of fucking with you wore off so quickly, baby. Soon, I just became obsessed with hearing you talk. About anything and everything—I didn’t care. As long as your voice was in my ear, I was happy.”
It’s bound in mustard-yellow leather with a title embossed on the cover. Penelope Price for Dummies.
oh my god.
