Page 128 of Lilah
"I wouldn't care if you had a fuckin' potbelly. I don't want you hungry," he takes his hand off my stomach and lowers my shirt back.
He's like a grandma, always worried about if Bear and I are eating enough.
"Would you care if I had better stomach muscles than you?" A little smile touches my lips.
"No. As long as you're not hungry," he keeps up his reasoning.
I'm not sure that would look right to have better muscles than him. Just a little off. It'd be The Rock with my face.
"What is a no-go for you? Like, a type. Do you have a type?" I ask. Am I his type?
He gives a single-shouldered shrug.
"Light blonde. Green eyes. Fuckin' talkative apparently. How tall are you?"
"5'2," I furrow my eyebrows
"5'2," He continues, "pretty smile."
"Cute fucking nose," he kisses my nose. Is he talking about me? He's gotta be, duh Azalea.
"You think I have a pretty smile?" My voice raises an octave in awe. He rolls his eyes.
"Step in front of a mirror once in a while," he grumbles. Usually, that's an insult but not right now.
A thought comes to mind and I hold back from evilly giggling.
"I like guys around 5'5-5'8," I sigh 'dreamily' and just barely catch sight of his face growing unhappy.
"Blue eyes are a must! And he's gotta be very skinny. Like a stick. Oh! Light brown hair would be nice. Or a bald guy," I describe the opposite person to Grey.
I look up to see his face set in a harsh glare. His jaw tense and his shoulders the same.
"That'snotme," he says bluntly.
"I'm only teasing," I wrap my arms around his strong torso. He stays tense and I let out a breathy laugh. So tense he won't even hug.
"Grey," I say. He keeps his eyes away from me.
"What did we talk about ignoring?" I remind him and his eyes dart down to me.
"C'mere," I wiggle my finger for him to lean down to me.
"Not to," He grumbles quietly.
"You're my type, I promise. Look," I lean up as tall as I can and I press my lips she softly against his.
"You're getting some confidence, hm?" He pulls away just an inch.
"Hush," I tell him.
~~~
"Mr. Terrip?" I call out after I've finished putting all the books that were brought out back in their correct places.
"What do you think about Grey?" I ask him the question that has entered my mind on a couple of occasions. Of course, I know what I think about Grey, but I just want to know what pretty much my only friend thinks of him too.
I watch as a little smile spreads across his lips. He removes his glasses and peers up at me from his seated position.
