Page 73 of Riding the Sugar High

With a scoff, I lean with my back against the wall. “And?”

“And I have to wake up too, and—and it’s too early, Logan.”

She squares her shoulders as if she herself knows she’s making zero sense.

“Then it’s settled,” I say as I roll my eyes. “Let the animals starve to death, because Primrose, the pink glittery Barbie princess, can’t be woken up from her beauty sleep.”

“You are the most frustrating person in the world.” She grabs her book and walks away.

“Do I need to list my complaints again?”

She stops, shoulders hunched, and slowly turns to me. Her face is all scrunched up, red as if she’s not breathing. As if she knows the moment she opens her mouth, she’ll say something she can’t come back from.

She sneers at me, then hisses, “You know what, Logan? You need to get laid.”

I—what?“And what would you know about that?”

“Kyle mentioned you haven’t had sex in—” Her eyes widen. “He just...Please don’t kill him.”

With a scoff, I look away, tracing my upper lip with the tip of my tongue. Unbelievable. I’m not just going to kill him—I’m going to skin him alive.

Glaring at her, I mutter, “Keep my personal life out of your mouth. Try to be ten percent less of an annoying roommate, and wear your own goddamn clothes.”

She groans and looks up at the ceiling, fists clenched. When her gaze is back on me, she marches closer, and I brace myself for a smack. But she stops just an inch away, then pinches the fabric on her hips, pulling my shirt over her head. “Here. Take yourstupidshirt back.”

The shirt flies at my face and slinks to the floor between us. I don’t move a single muscle, my eyes stuck to Primrose’s heavy tits, lightly bouncing with her erratic movements. Her pink nipples, the same I felt rubbing against my chest that first night, almost instantly harden, and my brain flatlines. I can’t think of a single thing as I stare and try not to drown in a pool of drool.

Everything about her is soft perfection. Her chest, with the faintest outline of her collarbone, the voluptuous curve of her hips and her belly, all the way down to the yellow shorts that could easily pass as underwear.

Gotta give it to her; this is a great way to win an argument.

When she breathes in a gasp, her body recoiling, I force myself to look away from her chest.

Is wearing a bra something one forgets to do? Because she looks as surprised as I am.

She regroups and lifts her chin in defiance, and I still say nothing, blinking again and again as more heat creeps up my neck and cheeks.

“Thank you,” I choke out after a few seconds. Now, it’s imperative I leave the room because I’m about to pitch a tent in my jeans. “Nice tits.”

She jerks her head back, and with a horrified expression, mumbles, “Asshole,” before scurrying away.

My shoulders only relax once her bedroom door closes behind her.

Silver lining? I don’t think she’ll be stepping over the line anymore.

Problem, though, is that now I want to grab the line and throw it out of the window. I want to cross it repeatedly until it fades away.

Fuck the fucking line.

act silly around me

Primrose

“Remindme again why we’re here,” I say as I step out of the Uber. I rub a food dye stain off my wrist from this morning’s candy-making session as Logan joins my side, nervously looking around.

“It was only a matter of time before my mom heard about you, and she’s not going to give up until she meets my...” He grimaces. “Mygirlfriend.”

“Don’t look too happy about it.”

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