Page 50 of The Fangirl and the Grump

Reaching out, I wrap my arms around her and roll, bringing her with me until I’m flat on my back and she’s stretched over me. Sliding my hands down, I grip her ass and squeeze it with a satisfied moan.

“Listen to me, baby,” I say softly. “Your body is fucking perfect. Every part of you turns me on. And if I have to worship every inch of your soft, gorgeous flesh to prove it to you, I will.”

She blinks a few times like her eyes sting, then her lips slowly curve up into a sweet, brilliant smile.

“I might just need you to do that,” she says with a coy expression.

“Done,” I say, then flip us over so she’s beneath me. Pressing a soft kiss to her lips, I pull back and meet her sparkling eyes. “I hope you’re not tired. This is going to take me all night.”

ChapterTwenty-One

Keegan

Pressley and I had plans to spend the day closed up in the lodge today, just hanging out and getting to know each other again on our own terms, without the oppressive influence of Madison and Sloan. I don’t know if she heard me slink in at five this morning or not, but thankfully, she let me sleep instead of coercing me into getting up at a normal hour to get the day started.

I stumble out of my room around noon, and she waves me over to the couch where she has a whole snack buffet laid out on the coffee table. Grabbing a bottle of soda, she pours some into a plastic cup and wiggles it in my direction.

“A little late for coffee,” she says, “but the caffeine in this should get you going.”

“Thanks,” I say as I plop down next to her and take her offering.

“Long night?” she asks with a smirk.

“You could say that,” I murmur against the lip of the cup before I take a long drink.

“So the date went well,” she says, pulling her legs up and crossing them in front of her as she swivels to face me. “Tell me everything.”

She listens raptly as I tell her about dinner at Vincenzo’s. She swoons when I describe Trace’s chivalry. She laughs when I tell her about him tripping and falling. When I get to the part about Trace being turned on by the noises I made as I ate, Pressley squeals and presses a hand to her heart.

“It’s like a romcom movie,” she sighs.

“We decided to go back to his place,” I say, “but we made some ground rules before anything happened.”

“What kind of rules?” she asks, her brow quirking with confusion.

“Keeping it casual,” I answer. “I don’t live here. I’ll have to leave, eventually, so we just made everything clear so neither of us gets hurt.”

Pressley nods slowly. “And do you think you can both abide by those rules?”

“I think so,” I say slowly, remembering how adored Trace made me feel as he set out to prove how much he loves my body. Shaking my head, I meet her dubious gaze head-on. “Yes. Yes, we can keep it simple.”

“Okay,” she says with a firm nod as if she believes me more thanIactually believe me. Then she cocks her head and gives me a sly smile. “Did you call him ‘Wolf Daddy’ in bed?”

“No,” I shout, drawing out the sound into a wolf’s howl, making Pressley burst into a fit of giggles. “Seriously though, he really hates it when people call him that.”

“Well, maybe you should drop the ‘wolf’ part and just call him ‘daddy.’ He’s old enough for that,” she says with another laugh.

Picking up the pillow behind me, I swing it at her head while shouting, “He is not! He’s not that much older than me.”

Pressley blocks the pillow assault, then spins to grab the pillow stuffed behind her back. I quickly set my cup of soda on the table, then scooch back with my own pillow ready to block her counter-attack.

It’s ridiculous. I know that. Like some raunchy scene from a male-written-and-directed porno movie. Grown women don’t pillow fight. Not in real life.

But as Pressley and I chase each other around the lodge, laughing until we’re crying and snotty as we try to pummel each other with couch cushions, I feelalive. I realize that this is what our friendship should’ve always been like.

We don’t care how we look. Neither of us will snub the other for being childish. There will be no pointed barbs between us meant to make each other feel small or insignificant. No blackmail photos or videos hastily snapped on camera phones.

We can just be ourselves. Our goofy, ridiculous,happyselves.

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