She laughs. “Just how bored were you in school that you bird watched, and now you’re kissing me?”

When she says it like that, I sound like a complete loser, but she’s just… imperfect and doesn’t know my past.

Most don’t.

It’s like a fresh start.

One I needed.

One that will help me forget. Which is selfish as hell, but she has a light that was lost to me when I was a freshman, so it just feels like, finally, things are going right.

The family will always look perfect despite the fractures in the foundation; she doesn’t have to know the dirty details.

So yeah, maybe I want something just for me.

Is that so wrong?

“How are you so convincing?” she asks, giving me a little shove.

I laugh. “I was trained from a young age. They do that for rich kids, you know.”

“Oh, they do?”

“It’s a very elaborate training process; they even give you a silver spoon and shove it in your mouth when you’re done.”

She slaps me on the shoulder. “How difficult that must have been.”

“They made us eat peas.”

“I hate peas.”

“Same.”

“So pizza?” she asks, her mind seems to be constantly on food.

I nip her lips again. “Sure, sorry, I just saw something better, and they never teach self-control at rich kid school.”

“Shocker.”

“It’s downright criminal.”

“You know, you’re not totally hateful.”

“I can tell that came from deep down in your soul. Is this just because I gave you an orgasm or—“

She cups a hand over my mouth like someone’s going to hear us, then wraps her arms around my neck. “This is strange, isn’t it?”

“There is nothing strange about hugging in a kitchen before eating pizza.”

“I mean everything else. Us.”

“A day at a time.”

“Ah, more rich kid training?” She laughs.

I shake my head. “Nah, that’s just life stuff.”

She nods. “A day at a time then.”

“Just one, and then another, and another. Sound good?”

She nods, and I wonder how I got so lucky to get her dropped into our house. One that’s felt so lonely that I never even wanted to admit it. Dinners were for photo ops, and now, I’m eating pizza with a beautiful girl that I can even call a friend.

I wonder what this feeling is in my chest and suddenly realize it’s happiness.

Chapter Six

Mary-Belle

His tongue could change the world—literally, all I can think of when it’s inside me. In the back of my head, I realize that this probably isn’t the smartest thing, but… I’ve been so lonely, and he’s suddenly everything I see.

Is it insane that we’re doing this right now? Again?

Yes.

Do I care?

No.

Because I’ve lived my life in the dark, afraid, constantly putting my shields up, constantly waiting to crack or fall.

Right now, I want to live. I want to make a choice for myself, not some social worker telling me where I’m going to sleep at night or some creepy stranger telling me how pretty I am.