Page 74 of Don't Go Breaking My Heart
“When he saw me, he pretended not to. Like, you’re not invisible, dude. You’re an asshole wearing a beanie.”
I could not stand that guy and was glad when their relationship came to an end.
I bite my lip, trying not to laugh. “What did you do?”
“Luca and I sat there and made fun of him. I ordered bottomless mimosas—they were amazing, by the way—chugged three of them and called you but you didn’t answer.”
Obviously.
“Right.” I smile. “Sorry about that.”
I was busy last night and could barely drag myself out of bed…
Nova lets out a long, dramatic sigh. “Whatever. I’m over it.”
I yawn.
“Yeah.” She yawns. “So that was my morning. How about yours?”
I open my mouth, the words right there on the tip of my tongue, and they’re so heavy I almost choke on them.
The phone is pressed to my ear while my other hand grips the hem of my sweatshirt, pulling it down over my knees as I move to sit cross-legged on the bed, staring at the wall like it might give me a sign.
Nova’s voice crackles through the line, tinny and impatient. “Poppy? You still there?”
“Yeah,” I say, my voice too high, too tight.
“You’re being weird,” she says, suspicion bleeding through every word. “Like, more than your usual weird.”
I let out a shaky laugh, the sound forced and hollow. “Am I?”
“Uh, yeah. Did something happen?”
My fingers tighten around the cord, twisting and untwisting it, the plastic biting into my skin. “Why would you think that?”
“Because you sound flustered,” Nova says. “And you’re being cagey. And you never sleep in on Saturdays, and?—”
“I didn’t sleep in,” I say, the words tumbling out too fast. “I… didn’t sleep.”
Nova sucks in a breath, and I can practically hear her eyes going wide through the phone. “Wait, what? You almost did it? Like… clothes came off? Tongues were involved? There was heavy petting?”
“Oh my god, stop,” I mutter, pulling the sweatshirt tighter around me. “Nothing happened.”
But DAMN DID I WANT IT TO.
It would have been so easy, wouldn’t it? Pressing my ass into his junk until he couldn’t stand it? Maybe move his hand so it was on my boobs…
How lovely is that thought?
I swallow, staring at my ceiling, last night’s fantasies flashing through my mind in a dizzying loop. Turner’s hands on my hips, cuddling me.
“Okay, I’m going to need details,” Nova says, voice sharper now. “You’re being too vague and it’s driving me nuts.”
Sorry. “There are no details. Not real ones anyway.”
“What does that mean?” Nova asks, confused.
“It means I’m living with a guy I can’t stop thinking about naked, okay?” I groan, pressing my palms to my face. “I keep imagining him… touching me. Or me touching him. It’s like my brain is short-circuiting and I can’t even look at him without picturing?—”
