Page 25 of Merry Me
If I had an addiction, it was arm porn.
And possibly abs.
And definitely the backwards hat thing.
And the smell that was currently drowning me in pheromonal despair.
“Yeah?” I finally squeaked, because apparently my voice had joined my brain in abandoning me.
A problem I seemed to be having lately.
“I asked about Old Bessie,” he said, tossing me a side-glance. “I’m surprised you’re still driving her.”
“Don't say her name like that,” I snapped instantly, regretting all my life decisions that had led me to this wedding and the sexual way he’d just said my car’s name that was doing terrible,wickedthings to my insides.
Old Bessie had been the site fora lotof sex, and just hearing him say her name was sparking a flashback of Easton’s and my hottest moments.
Weird but true.
“Such a greedy pussy,”he growled,his hot tongue licking through my core.
Natalie,get a fucking hold of yourself.
“Well, unfortunately most of my money goes to clothes, Nerds Gummies, and alcohol…” I stammered, only being a little sarcastic on account of the need thrumming in between my thighs. “Bessie hasn’t had a check-up in, like, a year, but she’s loyal.”
“But not tuition,” he inserted smoothly, staring out the driveway with that same annoyingly hot smirk on his lips. “Your money hasn’t been going to that.”
I blinked at his statement, a frown on my lips. How had he known that?
“No…” I said slowly. “It hasn’t been going to tuition.”
It was true. I hadn’t paid a dime toward tuition since going to school. A miracle, really—one I hadn’t questioned because I’d assumed it was some obscure scholarship or university glitch sent from the heavens. The grant email had been vague, the name on it unfamiliar. I’d never questioned it too deeply because…well, Ineededit.
But what if…
Surely not.
Fuck.
A horrible, gut-sinking suspicion was gnawing its way through my insides. Paying for my college was never going to be an option for my parents. I’d known all along I was going to have to take out a buttload of school loans and then spend the majority of my adult life trying to pay them off.
I side-eyed Easton, trying to study him as closely as I could without making it obvious. I used to know his every expression like the back of my hand. The twitch of his lip when he was holding back a joke. The crease between his brows when he was annoyed but trying to be chill about it. The way his jaw flexed when he was nervous.
But I was finding this new version of him was a lot harder to read.
“Easton,” I finally began cautiously. “How did you know that I haven’t been paying tuition?”
His smirk turned into a full-fledged grin that threatened to take my breath away.
“BecauseIpaid for it, obviously,” he said, completely unrepentantly might I add. As if it were perfectly normal to pay foryour ex’s tuition from your big Hollywood contract after she brutally stabs you in the heart.
My entire body locked up. My breath snagged. My ovaries simultaneously tried to riot and slap me.
I choked. Like, actual sputtering, gasping, about-to-die choking.
He didn’t even flinch. Just lifted one hand and casually placed it on my knee. Right on the soft black cotton of my leggings. His thumb started doing this soft, slow, comforting stroke like I was some kind of panicked bunny who needed to be calmed.
Another spoiler alert: it didnotcalm me.
