Page 90 of Bitter Rival

Time for a truth bomb, I guess. The cherry on top of the festival sundae.

“Here’s something honest for you. I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you at the airport. Before I knew who you were, when you were just a random girl coming down the escalator. Then you showed up at the baggage claim and I was pissed that it was you and not just some random girl I thought about kissing.”

And that’s the damn truth. I saw her first. In her baggy jeans and her oversized hoodie. But I didn’t even notice what she was wearing. In a sea of people, all I saw was her face.

“You wouldn’t have acted on it though. You would have just stored it in your little dream castle.” She hops onto the counter across from me and leans back on her hands. “You’ve probably never kissed a random girl in your life.”

“The only girls I ever kiss are random girls.”

She thinks about that for a moment, and I know she’ll put two and two together.

If you were just some random girl and we had no history, no ties that bind, no tangled emotions, we wouldn’t be in this boat.

It would be simple. Easy. We’d both take what we want—in my case, I would fuck her into oblivion—and there would be no unrealistic expectations or hurt feelings when we went our separate ways.

But we’re not those people. We came into this with a shitload of baggage, and we know each other in ways I’ve never known anyone.

Even without sex, we’ve already reached a level of intimacy I’m not accustomed to.

So I’m not sure how to navigate this uncharted territory and to take what I want while ensuring we both come out unscathed.

I’m not even sure it’s possible.

She gives me a little smile. “What a sad little life you’ve led before I came along to rescue you from the pits of despair.”

I huff out a laugh. “I’m not looking to be rescued. This is the life I choose.”

“So you’re saying that it’s not because you don’t want me—” She runs the toe of her boot up my thigh, coming dangerously close to my balls, and I wouldn’t put it past her to smash her foot into them. But I stay where I am, on the alert, ready to grab her ankle and yank her off the counter to protect myself if need be. “But because you think sex will overcomplicate everything.”

“Right. And we still have another five weeks to go,” I point out.

“Five whole weeks.” Her hand goes to her heart. “Whatever will you do? You have commitment issues, don’t you? Luckily, I have the perfect solution.” She nudges my balls, just a soft prod.

A warning. A promise. Destruction is imminent.

My hand wraps around her ankle to prevent her from crushing my balls under the sole of her boot and I hold it captive.

She smiles. “Pretend I’m just some random girl you’ve never met.”

I push her foot away. “That’s like trying to put the genie back in the bottle.”

Daisy hops off the counter and sashays over to the turntable where she chooses a vinyl and guides the needle to Mazzy Star’s “Fade into You.”

The song sounds like Daisy. Reminds me of her and the photos plastered to her wall. Dreamlike and rose-tinted.

But I’m not sure what message she’s trying to convey with this song. I can’t imagine Daisy ever being eclipsed by another person or fading into them. She burns too bright.

She returns to her spot on the counter and I’m still where she left me, leaning against the refrigerator. Watching. Waiting.

“You were my first crush. Did you know that?”

I did. Caiden and Ledger used to tease me about it. But she was just a little kid, so it was completely innocent and harmless.

“It doesn’t have to be complicated,” she says. “You want to fuck me. I want to fuck you.”

I tsk. “Watch that dirty mouth.”

Her tongue glides over her lips. “You love this dirty mouth. It’s your favorite part of my anatomy.”

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