Page 65 of Girls Will Be Girls
He sticks me with an amused glare. “Which one?”
“Urgh.” I lose my temper. “Both. I want both.”
“Greedy.” He grins. “Split them?”
“Okay.” I concede.
“Okay?” He asks.
“Okay!” I shout.
He hands me half of the croissant first, but out of spite, I ignore him and split the cinnamon scroll instead. When I take a bite, I look at him leaning back on his elbows, grinning at me with an annoying, smug face before he rips out a bite of almond goodness.
“Why do you do that?” I ask through my chewing.
“Do what?” He asks.
I roll my eyes for what feels like the hundredth time today because of him, annoyed he’s acting so oblivious. “Make me pick. Make me tell you what I want. Why can’t you just believe that I don’t mind?”
He takes a sip of his drink. “Because Idon’tbelieve you.”
“You’re calling me a liar now?” I snip at him.
“No.” He chuckles. “I’m calling you kind.” He pauses. “And generous, and empathetic, and nice.”
“And these are bad things, because…” I ask.
“They’re not.” He finishes chewing. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to beonlythose things.” He says. “Not with me.”
My heart stutters a second, but I push past it. “Is that why you’re so adamant about annoying me?”
He smirks. “That just comes naturally, baby girl.”
I make a gagging sound as he laughs.
“Really, Louisa.” He says. “I want you to be selfish with me.”
He’s looking at me with the kind of look that could get us in trouble.
“What about what you want?” I ask, turning my head to concentrate on the melting whipped cream in my drink.
“I’m good at asking for what I want.” He says.
I’m surprised I don’t cause myself to choke on my drink with the way I draw in an unexpectedly sharp breath, picturing him asking me to spread my legs, or drop to my knees, to take all of him.
I look up at him smirking at me. He’s reading my mind again. If it’s possible to eat a croissant in a cocky way, that’s exactly what he’s doing.
“Stop making things so sexual, Louisa.” He scolds me. “We agreed to shut it down.”
“You agreed.” I mumble before taking another bite.
I consider knocking over his coffee. Letting it spill all over the rocks. Making him clean it up. Having him go buy a new one. I want to exact petty revenge on him. I want to do something to drive him as crazy as he drives me.
No one has annoyed me or angered me in this kind of childish way before, not to the level that I just want to pin him down between my legs and poke his ribs until he’s writhing and squealing, begging me to stop.
Instead, all I can do every time is roll my eyes. Roll my eyes and huff at him.
He infuriates me to the point where I think I might like it. How backwards is that?
