Page 62 of Becoming His
"Take your jeans off."
"What's the magic word?" I breathed as his eyes snapped up to mine.
"Now."
Thirty
Sporadic
“You’re so demanding.” I yawned as I texted Ray, asking her to tell my parents I was staying at Bailey’s house. I knew she was at my house, and if she said it, they wouldn’t be able to argue; not that they ever did, but just in case.
“Mmm? I’m demanding?” Bailey said as he ran his finger down my bare back while I read Ray’s quick response.
“Ordering me to take my clothes off-”
“Don’t wear clothes then; problem solved.” He interrupted as I snuggled against him, his skin warming under my cheek.
“Yeah, about that... I need to wear clothes. It’s socially expected.” I laughed.
“Not in here, it isn’t. I love seeing you like this. You’re so relaxed,” he murmured thoughtfully. “You care too much about other people. Just think of yourself.”
I had a feeling we weren’t talking about clothes anymore, and I shifted uncomfortably, swinging my leg over his for comfort.
“I like to please people,” I admitted as he ran his hand through my hair.
“Need I remind you that you do exceptionally well at pleasing me?”
I smiled against him as he continued.
“Seriously, though. Who gives a fuck what is happening with everyone else? Just make yourself happy.”
I gazed at him as he studied me in return, pure adoration on his face as I grinned stupidly.
“When the hell did I fall in love with Bailey Fenton?”
He cocked his head as he considered my question.
“Honestly, it was probably the first time we met. You probably saw me across the room and thought, yeah, I like his surname.”
I laughed as he kissed me softly, his forehead resting against mine when he pulled away.
“I do like your surname,” I confessed with a smirk, and he smiled in return.
“I think you’ll suit it. Annabelle Fenton.”
Our eyes met then, and the banter momentarily paused. My breath caught in my throat as he nodded.
“Yes, I’ll marry you. Shall we finish college first?”
I couldn’t help but kiss him, my mind now putting him in a suit, me in a dress. It wouldn’t be white; I prefer ivory. But his suit could be any color. We could get married on the beach—
“Are you imagining our wedding?” He chuckled as his eyes danced with delight.
“Bailey Fenton getting married?” I mused as he moved my hair from my eyes.
“I haven’t asked you yet, Annabelle.” His voice was teasing, but his eyes told me otherwise.
Time to change the subject…
