Page 10 of Sweet
Roni looked back at Daisy and narrowed her eyes. “You’re evil.”
“Agree or not?”
“How do we know you actually talked to him?”
Olivia jumped in. “You have to get his phone number!”
Fuck.
“Fine.” She could always write a random phone number on a napkin and pretend it was Spider’s. “I’ll get his phone number.”
Now Roni was looking at her with new respect. “I like this Daisy. We should take her out more often.”
“Oh, shut up.” Daisy slid off the stool and grabbed her purse before she headed toward the door where Spider had disappeared without a backward glance.
Shit. Shit shit shit.
She was heading out to the back of the Ice House, and she had to talk to Spider.
Kill me now.
She pushedthe door open and felt momentarily lost by the sudden shift from light to dark.
The backyard of the Ice House was mostly a collection of old wooden picnic tables scarred from cigarettes and matches. There was a horseshoe pit in the far corner and a line of half-burned-out Christmas lights to illuminate the darkness.
Most of the tables were occupied with small groups of people sharing cigarettes and speaking closely. There were a few meshed shadows of couples making out.
“You don’t look like a smoker.”
Daisy spun and saw Spider leaning against the fence in the corner, the tip of his cigarette glowing in the shadows.
“I don’t smoke… much.” She blinked hard and drifted toward him. “I just needed some air. My cousins are… Yeah.”
“Huh.” He nodded.
Holy shit, she was having an actual conversation with Spider. Kind of. And it wasn’t about his coffee.
“Is that who you’re with?” He took another draw on his cigarette. “I didn’t know Nestor’s girl was your cousin.”
“Yeah.” She nodded and walked toward him, shoving her hands in her jacket pockets to hide the shaking. “She’s great, but my younger cousin is kind of a lot, so I was craving…”
You. Oh my God, I was craving you.
Daisy could feel his eyes on her, and she felt like her skin was alive. She wanted to grab him and kiss him. She wanted to strip his shirt off and run her hands over every inch of his skin.
The corner of Spider’s mouth turned up. “You don’t smoke.”
“I’ve smoked.” She tried to seem casual and tough.
“Maybe once or twice.” Spider pushed away from the fence and approached her. He held his cigarette away from her as he leaned closer. He smelled faintly of sweat, cigarette smoke, and fresh laundry.
Daisy blinked. It was an unexpected smell for a man, one that reminded her of home and sunny afternoons with Tia Imelda.
“But you don’t smoke.” He said it like a statement.
“How can you tell?”
He glanced down, and Daisy wished she were wearing a different shirt, something cooler, not a ruffle-trimmed blouse she’d thought would look nice with her jeans.
