Page 60 of Pick Me

Memories of him bringing Grace home, not once, but twice—albeit with a year between— and letting her call me a pick-me come to mind. Even though he didn’t say it, he was responsible for bringing her over.

“Okay, well, how about this? Since I’m so terrible, if you play this with me and still want me gone at the end of it, I’ll leave.”

It’s an enticing offer because I could see the end of him for the night.

“Come on, Pyro. Don’t you want to learn some embarrassing shit about me?”

“Fine. We’ll play, but only because there are a ton of rumors about you going around, and I want to know the truth.”

“Ditto, P. I’ll start. Never have I ever eaten a taco?”

“Is that a euphemism?”

“For?” I raised a brow, not wanting to say it out loud. “Oh, do you think I’m talking about eating pussy? No, don’t worry, P. I love doing that. I’m talking about actual tacos. You know with the hard shell, or maybe soft, depends on your preference. Usually, it has some meat inside… a little cheese.”

He described the scenario with gusto. His hands gesturing everywhere and a grin on his face. I stared at him dumbfounded before barking out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“If you want to play this game, then you’ve got to be a little more truthful about things. You’ve eaten a taco.”

“How do you know?”

I pressed my teeth into my bottom lip, stifling a laugh. “I’ve heard about your taco tattoo on your ass, and honestly, considering your track record of being so open and outrageous, I’m surprised I haven’t seen it.”

“The taco tattoo was an ode to the fact that I haven’t eaten one.”

“That makes no sense.”

“When have I ever?”

“Good point. Okay, humor me. Why’d you get it?”

He shrugged, taking a sip of his beer even though he didn’t need to. “Eh, my friends from high school asked me to do it. I was the first one to turn eighteen, and they all said I should do it.”

“So you did?”

He nodded, making me shake my head in disbelief.

“Then I added a couple more too. Didn’t want the taco getting lonely.”

“Wow. You are the very definition of Hive mind, aren’t you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you go along with whatever anyone tells you to do. You’re like a little sheep, following the herd.”

He pulled his chin back, his eyebrows furrowing. “Wow. I knew you hated me, but I didn’t realize just how much.”

“Can’t help it. I don’t like being called a pick-me.”

Jackson rolled his eyes, letting out a disgruntled groan. “Are we back to that stupid comment I didn’t even make again? How many times am I going to have to tell you, I don’t think you’re a pick-me girl. In fact, I think you’re the exact opposite.”

“Whatever.” I shook my head and raised my hand flippantly.

He gripped the beer bottle’s neck, wringing it so tight his knuckles were going white. “You’re spontaneous. You’re funny without trying, and people gravitate to you.”

“Compliments won’t get you anywhere with me.”

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