Page 67 of The Worst Kind of Promise
“I do. But I don’t expect the princess treatment to stop any time soon.”
“Never,” he promises.
25
BOOK HAULS AND BLUE BALLS
KIT
She’s all in. I’d pump my fist in the air if I had a hand to do it with. One small step for man, one giant leap for Kit-kind.
I watch and admire the way Faye lights up with excitement when she finds a book that piques her interest. She keeps handing them to me, and yeah, there might be a slight ache in my arms, but I’d carry enough books to fill up a library for her. When she finally decides that thirty-some-odd books are enough, I pay at the checkout, hefting each bag up my arm.
It’s past three by now, and we still haven’t eaten lunch yet. We make the short trek to the car, and Faye pops open the trunk for me.
“You hungry?” I ask, hauling the bags inside, thinking back to when I had all her luggage back here. The beginning of everything.
Faye sighs wistfully. “Food sounds great right now.”
I hip-bump the trunk closed and lean against it. “What do you feel like?”
“Oh, uh…” Her face scrunches up adorably, and I want so badly to take it in my hands and kiss her a hundred times over. Kiss her so many times that she’s swollen mouthed and panting for her next breath of air, until her pupils are dilated and that gorgeous blush of hers is a patchwork of pink all over her cheeks.
“You pick.”
“Princess, I’ve been down this road. I know how it goes. I’ll throw something out there, you veto it, I offer something else, you also veto it. And we go back and forth until you eventually just tell me what you feel like.”
“I’m notthatpicky,” she bickers.
I clasp my hands together and point them at her. “Pizza.”
“Isn’t it a little hot for pizza?”
“Chinese food.”
“I love it, but it is super greasy.”
“Sandwiches.”
“The bread is always so…dry.”
I scrub a hand down my tired face, chuckling at how well I know her. Even though she drives me up the wall sometimes, my heart only beats for her. Hell, it would still beat for her if she yanked it out of my body, stomped on it, and threw it out the window to be flattened by a four-wheeler. Not that she would ever do that.
I stare at her in silence.
“Okay, fine. I see your point,” she mumbles in defeat, scouting for the nearest restaurant. Even as the sun hangs lower in the sky, it still swathes her in a canary halo, one that lightens her eyes and brings out their underlying gold tones.
“What about burgers?”
Despite the fact that I’d eat anything put in front of me right now, hunger isn’t what pushes me toward the idea. It’s the dick-wetting sight of watching Faye bite into a burger twice the size of her head, all while grease drips down her chin as she makes those little orgasmic noises.
Fingers snap in front of my face. “Hello?”
“Yeah, I said that sounds good.”
“You didn’t say anything.”
“I did in my head.”
