Page 137 of How to Win the Girl

Please. “This isn’t about sex.”

She looks pleased. “I’m so glad you said that because…I hear rumors, you know? And I’ve read stories, especially about athletes and—you know how it is.”

“By stories, you mean gossip on the internet?” It can’t hurt to be specific. It is what it is, googling shit is only natural, but you can’t believe everything you read. She’ll find that out soon enough if we start hanging out on a regular basis.

One of the main reasons my brother had a fake girlfriend last year was to keep the girls and media off his dick and out of his business. It’s sheer luck that situation worked out for him and now Ryann is living in the room across the hall, and they’re boning on the regular and talking about buying houses and other domestic shit.

“Sure. Gossip on the internet but also your neighbor, what’s her name?”

Fuck. She wants to know Shannon’s name?

How about not.

“Her name hardly matters.”

The way Daisy cocks her head at me tells me she does indeed believe Shannon’s name matters. The fact that Shannon ambushed us while we were on our “date” certainly does nothing to help my cause.

Daisy is a smart girl.

I’m sure she crossed the t’s and dotted the i’s.

Shannon has alsonotbeen so easily discouraged, stopping by too occasionally for comfort, texting to let me know she stopped by and trying to catch me when I’m home.

She has thus far been unsuccessful, and I hope it stays that way.

For now, Daisy seems content to let the matter of the neighbor girl drop, the food we ordered set in front of us lifts both our moods. Turns out, the farmer’s delight is one pancake on its own plate, hogging all the table space, hashbrowns on another plate, with an egg over easy.

“You were saying something about wanting to have lots of sex with me and letting me go down on you?” I tease, pushing my fork into the pecan roll.

“No. I was saying the opposite, you weirdo.” She chews on her pancake. “I’m proposing a sex ban.”

“A what?”

“A sex ban.”

“I was afraid that’s what you were saying.”

“I’m proposing that we start fresh and start over—like we just met.”

“I think that’s a terrible idea. I already know you. Starting over is like going back in time.”

“Not even.” She disagrees with a little shake of her head. “I don’t want to immediately fall into bed with you. I’m not the kind of girl who has sex in bathrooms and climbs into bed with a guy.”

I almost open my mouth to disagree with the sex in bathrooms part but think better of it, not wanting to get my ass chewed out for being insensitive.

“Daisy, I’m not judging you because you let me put my mouth on your pussy. I was there too.”

“Shh,” she hisses. “Would you keep your voice down?”

I glance around, noticing that the other patrons are literally not looking at us, not even a little.

“Dude, no one can hear us.” We’re in a back corner, and everyone seems to be engrossed in conversation.

“It’s ten in the morning—can wenotuse the word pussy in a sentence. You’ll give me a migraine.”

I watch her as I chew, loading my fork with a little bit of everything that’s on my plate for one perfect bite. Dip that bite in syrup, then stuff it in my mouth with a moan.

So good.

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