Blind Side

That’s the thing about love,” he said, kissing my hair. “It doesn’t need to be reciprocated to be real.

You don’t want to be someone’s muse, you want to be someone’s undoing. And let me tell you, Kitten… You’re mine.

Another tip you picked up from my books?”“Those things are like a treasure map. Just follow the tabs and highlights to find the pot of gold.

I love you," he repeated, quieter this time, as if he only wanted me to hear. "I love your smutty books, and your weird documentaries, and your obsession with orange, processed snacks." I choked on something between a laugh and a sob. "I love the way you dress, and the way you light up when you talk about the universe, and the way you saw through every wall I tried to put between me and the rest of the world and knew who I was even when I didn't." He shook his head, licking his lips before he continued. "I love how you believe in me, and how you burn to prove everyone wrong when they size you up too quickly. I love that you challenge me." I leaned into his palm, bottom lip quivering before I bit down to hold it still. "I love everything about you- big and small, silly and serious. And I'm sorry I was an idiot and tried to end our story before it even had the chance to begin.

Do you know how intimidating it is to approach a girl when she’s reading a book? That’s like trying to pet a cat’s belly. It might work out great, but more than likely you’ll get claws to the face for assuming they wanted anything to do with you.

At some point, you have to accept that and move forward. I’m not saying you need to sprint, or that it’s not going to hurt every step of the way. But that’s what life is, sometimes. It’s just getting up, getting dressed, and putting one foot in front of the other until one day… the pain fades. And you know what else?” “What?” I whispered. “Life has a funny way of surprising us and bringing us something even better down the line.

The more I pretended like she was mine to tease like that, the more it felt like she really was.

You have owned my heart since the first fake kiss, Kitten.

I couldn’t eat,” he started, knee still bouncing. “Couldn’t train, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t do anything other than make myself sick thinking about him touching you.

I didn't have main character energy. I was more of the quirky, cute best friend with all the sage advice.

I can give to the ones I love without sacrificing everything that brings me joy in the process.

She watched me like I had all the answers, like I was her lifeline. Like she trusted me with everything that she was.

But it was nothing compared to when he tilted my chin like a cinnamon roll hero would and kissed me.

I'd take every stolen moment, every fake kiss, every lesson she let me teach her.

Correction—a lot will change. Because as if it wasn’t hard enough for me to keep my hands off you when we were pretending, it’s going to be fucking impossible now.

Ten minutes later, I came back out to find Clay propped against my headboard reading one of my motorcycle club romances. “Am I going to have to put these under lock and key?” I plucked the book from his hands, holding it out of reach as he protested. “With dirty scenes like that? Yeah. Probably.” He waggled his brows. “I saw you put a highlighter tab on the soft choking part…” My neck burned hotter than it had in my whole life as my eyes nearly popped out of my skull. Without thinking better of it, I reared that book in my hand back and promptly threw it at Clay, who dodged it only by a hair. “Hey, no shame!” He laughed. “Just info I want to tuck away for later,” he added, tapping his temple.

Clay, who was now holding up a small book for everyone to see.

She didn’t cower or back down. She didn’t shy away. She didn’t take it back. She looked me right in the eye and asked again, silently, for me to be the one to take something I knew was more precious to a woman than I would ever understand as a man.

The truth was I read about a book a day, so they all blurred together after a while.

But ours is better.

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful PR princess named Giana,” he said, showing the stick figure with glasses and curly hair with a headpiece on. He licked his thumb and flipped the page. “And a dumb safety named Clay.” The crowd laughed at the next drawing, which was a

It was possessive, the way he cradled me, the way he pulled me in tighter, kissed me harder, his hand slowly pushing up under the hem of my skirt.

I sat back, tapping a finger against my chin as I tried to recall all the fake-dating tropes I’d read. The truth was I read about a book a day, so they all blurred together after a while. But one thing I knew about pretending to date someone was that you absolutely needed rules, or things got messy.“No PDA,” I finally said.Clay made a buzzer sound, the noise so loud a few students at the tables around us looked over their shoulders. “Impossible. No one who’s actually dating avoids PDA.”“Fine.” I made a face. “Then we need a safe word.”“A safe word?” Clay chuckled. “Do you think I’m going to be tying you up, Kitten?

I’ve watched enough Breaking Bad that I think I could help you get rid of the body.

Kitten,” he whispered in a pained breath.

You love to study so much, Kitten... study me.

It reminded me of all that was, all the powerful emotions I’d felt with Clay in the time our lives were tangled together. I never wanted to lose those stinging lashes of pain, never wanted to forget how it felt to be held by him, touched by him, kissed by him. Loved by him. Maybe I didn’t get to have him forever. But I’d hold on to every little piece of him that he gave me for the rest of my life. And after, too.

Giana: Let’s just get through Chart Day and go from there. I think I’ve had enough… excitement for one day. Me: So kissing me was exciting, huh? I thought I felt a little wetness on my abs after I set you down… Giana: CLAY!

It means something if it hurts you.

You brute,” she teased, smacking my chest. “You love it.