« Tu ne peux pas partir maintenant. Je n'ai pas fini de tomber amoureux de toi. »
« Tu ne seras jamais capable de te retrouver si tu es perdue dans quelqu'un d'autre. »
"I love you, Fallon. More than poetry, more than words, more than music, more than your boobs. Both of them. Do you have any idea hw much that amounts to?"
“I think about you every second of every day and I don’t know how to get over you,” she says.
“Don’t,” I beg her. “Please don’t get over me.”
But when it comes to a battle between your adrenaline and your conscience, adrenaline always wins.
I've never loved someone I hate so much, and I've never hated someone I love so much.
He smiles at me from his position on the bed, and the sight of him sitting here makes my cheeks feel all hot and bothered. I suddenly want to beg him to roll around on my sheets so I can smell him when I fall asleep tonight. But then I remember I won't be sleeping on them tonight because I'll be on a flight to New York. I turn around and face my closet again so he doesn't see the flushed look on my face. He laughs quietly.
"You were just thinking dirty thoughts."
"Was not," I quip.
"Fallon, we've been dating for two hours now. I can read you like a book, and right now I do believe that book is full of erotica."
"I'm Fallon's boyfriend." I laugh, but I'm the only one who laughs. Glenn eyes him up and down.
"Boyfriend?" he asks, moving his attention back to me. "Does he know you're moving to New York?" I nod.
"He's known since the second we met.
Amber arches an eyebrow. "Which was... when?" She's confused, because she knows I tell her everything. And having a boyfriend is definitely considered a part of everything.
"Oh, man," Ben says, looking down at me. "How long has it been now, babe? One... two hours?"
"Two at the most."
"You were almost to my booth at this point and that's when my eyes fell to your cheek. To your neck. I saw the scars for the first time and just as I noticed them, you darted your eyes to the floor and let your hair cover most of your face. And you know what I thought in that moment, Fallon?"
Her eyes flick up to meet mine and I can tell she doesn't really want me to say it. She thinks she knows exactly what I thought in that moment, but she has no idea.
"I was so relieved," I tell her. "Because I could tell with that one simple movement that you were really insecure. And I realized -since you obviously had no idea how fucking beautiful you were- that I just might actually have a chance with you. And so I smiled. Because I was hoping if I played my cards right -I might get to find out exactly what kind of panties you were wearing under those jeans."
I swallow my bite of food and take a drink of my soda, maintaining silent eye contact with her the whole time. I wish I could say I'm mentally preparing a brilliant apology, but I'm not. I seem to have a one-track mind, and that track leads straight to the two things I shouldn't even be thinking about right now. Her boobs. Both of them.
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