Page 49 of Never Have I Ever
I choke out a laugh. She catches on quickly. “I know.”
“Then why don’t you?” she asks.
I smirk, seeing her staring at my lips. “Because angel, if I start, I won’t be able to stop.”
She shifts closer to me, wrapping her arms around my neck. “I don’t want you to stop.”
Fuck. I want to so much. I unwrap her arms from around me and back away from her. “You’re trouble,” I say, feeling the heat rising through my body. I want to touch her and kiss her, but I also don’t want to move too fast.
She shrugs, grinning, clearly pleased with herself. “Only around you.”
I laugh. “So, I’m a bad influence? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Something like that,” she says.
“Why’s that?”
“I don’t know,” she admits. “You make me want to be… different.”
I shake my head. “You don’t need to be different around me. Just be yourself.”
She nods, and her eyes dip to my lips. I lick them instinctively, and she repeats my movement. She rolls her eyes. “You’re really not going to touch me?”
I smirk. “Not tonight.”
She smiles slightly, and the sight knocks me in the chest. I can’t take it anymore. I close the distance and kiss her, hard and branding, making sure she knows where we stand. For as long as she wants to keep doing this, she’s mine, and I’m going to have fun with her.
17
Little black bag
Rosalie
I push the doors open and make my way out of the restaurant. It’s become one of my go-to spots, especially since it’s only five minutes away from my apartment and serves amazing brunch.
I had no idea that brunch was a hard thing to get right. Maybe I’m just spoiled and a picky eater, but most of the time that I had brunch in Pennsylvania, I couldn't finish it.
This little spot served the best omelets and the best avocado toast that I've ever had. Seriously, those high price places in New York that my mother dragged me to don't even top this place.
“Thank you for paying,” Madeline says.
“Again.” Gabriella finishes for her. “Seriously, Rosie, you don’t have to do that for us.”
The girls know about my financial situation. I mean, you’d be blind not to. Most of the things that my mother bought to furnish the apartment would be enough to buy a car. But the girls never take advantage of it, or me. In fact, Madeline brings us coffee most mornings when we meet up and never asks for money, so the least I can do is buy them brunch.
“I told you, it’s nothing.”
“Yeah, for you. That omelet was $30. What kind of eggs are they using?” Gabriella asks.
I laugh, shrugging. “It tastes good, though.”
Madeline grimaces. “I hate eggs. I always have to make myself forget I’m eating a chicken’s embryo.”
“Madi,” Gabi scorns. “Why would you say that? I love eggs. You’ve ruined them for me now.”
Madi laughs at Gabi’s face of disgust, and I can’t help but snicker too. “How can you love eggs?” Madi asks. “They don’t taste of anything unless you use salt.”
“The same can be said for chicken,” Gabi retorts. “And who doesn’t like chicken?”
