Page 13 of Chaining Daisy
“It’s what I did,” Lily’s tone is so matter-of-fact. “You should probably just get the kissing thing out of the way with him though. Practice that since you’re rusty. I’d say sex…but let’s be real, he doesn’t look like he knows how to show a girl a good time.”
“True,” the other girls chorus.
I grab my fork and stab a cube of honeydew, shoving it into my mouth. I’m certain that if I were to speak right now, I’d end up screaming.
The Wild Flowers are just calmly discussing the merits of me giving away my virginity to cancer-house dude like it’s no big deal.
I kick Rose under the table. She jolts, hissing in pain, and giving me an annoyed look, but I think I finally get through to her when I forcefully stab a piece of cantaloupe.
She holds up her hands and stops the group chatter. “Okay, okay, enough. You can no-show the date, alright, Daise? Just text him and say you aren’t feeling good.”
“I love to say I’m on my period.” Violet offers a suggestion that is absolutely, one hundred percent not something I’d ever say to some guy I’ve just met. Of course, she takes drastic measures to ward off guys her family doesn’t approve of.
“Just say you came down with something. You don’t have to tell him what.” Rose’s approach is gentler.
“You need to go,” Lily’s voice brooks no argument. “You need to go so that you can get over this obsession you have with Doctor Strong.”
All the color leaves my face. She knows?
I glance at Rose who gives me a subtle shrug. Do they all fucking know?! I want to melt and sink into a crack in the concrete right now—how fucking embarrassing!
“Come on. It’s obvious.” Lily folds her arms on the table and leans forward, her lips enunciating every word of my nightmare. “But he’s your step dad, Daisy. Hot as fuck. But you have to realize it’s never going to happen. And wishing it was is just going to leave you miserable.” Her hand reaches across the table, gentle as she touches mine. Her voice softens to match her touch. “I just want you to be happy, Daise.”
Happy.
It’s been so long since I’ve been fully happy, I’m not even sure what that would look like. I’ve been fantasizing it would be with Gunnar … but maybe that’s all it is. A fantasy.
GUNNAR
“Look at his nose. That’s a total scimitar. I bet he could slash through your test papers with that thing. Looks sharp as fuck.” I glare playfully at the T.A. in the photo on Daisy’s phone. “I’m right. They all have terrible noses.”
“You are ridiculous. The tip is a little sharp, I’ll give you that. But there’s the tiniest little curve there!” Daisy leans sideways on the soft gray sectional where we sit side by side. My food is already finished, carton set beside me. Hers is only half-done, the takeout container perched precariously on her crossed legs, legs that are deliciously bare because she changed into a baby blue pajama set before dinner.
Fuck, I love the sight of her skin.
I try not to turn into her as she presses a breast against one of my shoulders, her body soft against me as she peers at her phone—which I’m currently holding so I can flick through the pics she took today of unsuspecting professors. In front of us, a fire crackles in the two-story kiva fireplace, giving more ambiance than actual warmth—but I love the scent of the piñon wood and the cozy little picture we make. I’m in a great mood—Surgery went smoothly today, a solid ten followed by some easy meetings, and Daisy enjoyed her first day at the University of New Mexico, and now I’m thoroughly enjoying teasing her.
“It’s a terrible nose. Tell me you can see it’s a terrible nose.” I glance over at her. “If you can’t, maybe we need to get your eyes checked.”
“I think you’re nose-ist!”
I swallow a chuckle as I jab a finger at the guy’s nose, which could give a toucan a run for its money. “I am not! That’snota tiny curve. It’s massive!”
“It’s like a little bitty hump.”
“That’s a Nascar-level turn there. It’s huge.”
“Guys always overestimate size.”
My eyebrows shoot up as I glance over at the blush I can see creeping up her cheeks. My eyes twinkle as I ask, “Oh, do we?”
“Yes.” She’s adorably embarrassed but won’t back down. She adopts a superior attitude, pursing her lips. God, she’s fucking cute.
“Please, go on.”
“You know what I mean.”
There’s no way I’m letting her off the hook that easily. “I don’t think I do. What do we overestimate?”
