Page 25 of College-Virgin & Dark Bully Next-Door

“Not exactly,” she replies. “Though I’m going to need your permission, anyway.”

I recline on the couch as she proceeds to explain that she wants to submit my photos for an internship. Which makes me aware that she’ll be around much longer than the next three months. I’m also aware of how tempting her presence will be.

“Hell yes, you can use my photos. It’s a small price compared to the favor you’re giving me.”

She smiles, a huge, genuine one. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, bumble bee.”

With an eyeroll and a scoff, she sits beside me. “Did you really survive the hike, though? You got all wet and …” Her eyes flick down to my crotch.

My lips curl in a smile. “And.”

“Plus, the whole bug thing,” she reminds, refocusing. “So did you actually survive?”

“Considering you didn’t bury me there or drag me out, I’m thinking yes.”

“Eh, you’re pretty pale for ‘alive’.” She uses actual fucking air quotes.

I put her hand on my chest so she can feel my heart, but the heat from her fingers radiates across my skin. My heartbeat picks up for some stupid reason, and I let her hand go. She jerks back. “Okay, point to you.”

We order a pizza and go back and forth over toppings. I hate green peppers, and she’s insisting on them, unwilling to budge. She crosses her arms over her chest and gives me a hard look. I sigh, and we agree to do half and half.

Then she puts something on TV, offers me a drink and sits back down. “So … I’ll be taking pictures, nothing else?”

“If you can figure out the best way to use Instagram to promote me, I’m all ears.”

We talk about that for a while, and she definitely has some good advice, but I can’t resist giving her shit, and she can’t resist moving closer bit by bit. I rub my jaw and shake my head. “You did not.”

“I did!” She insists. “I bailed on prom after getting the dress. I came down for photos, and it just felt wrong. Dad wasn’t too upset. Not like Bonnie was. She said I stood her up – well, her and the date she had planned.”

“Truth or dare,” I interject.

She looks at me for a long time before shoving a huge bite of pizza in her mouth. Some things don’t change. “Truth?”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

She actually spits out her food. It goes everywhere. I pat her back, rub in circles and try to ease her coughing until she grabs her drink, takes a sip, then another, and calms. Her eyes meet mine from under her lashes.

No makeup right now, just her, red face, soda clinging to her bottom lip, and one long lock of hair in her face. She swallows. “No. I went ononedate, and I’m pretty sure I looked like a cat being hugged.”

“What the hell does that mean?” I try to hold back my laugh.

“You know, struggling to get away, pushing away. All that.” She acts it out, and I crack. She shoves me. “Don’t laugh! He was trying to get me to kiss him.”

“Must have been a brute.”

“I’ve met worse.” Her eyes flick to me and then away.

I know I have plenty of making up to do. We play a round of Mario Kart, and I win. She gapes at the TV. “No way. Best three out of five.”

We shove each other, fumble with the controllers, yell at each other, then she sits on my lap, right in my view. She moves with the track, but god damn, this woman. I toss the controller. “I give this game.”

“What?”

“I give.”

I press my forehead to the back of her shoulder and feel her freeze. “You …”

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