Somehow, Sydney had an internal clock that told her when time was up. I think it was part of her inherent ability to keep track of a hundred things at once. Not me. In these moments, my thoughts were usually focused on getting her shirt off and whether Iโd get past the bra this time. So far, I hadnโt.
Richelle MeadHey, a guy can hope. I mean, itโs not impossible that a car full of scantily clad sorority girls might break down outside and need my help.โ โThatโs true,โ I said. โMaybe I can put a sign out front that says, โATTENTION ALL GIRLS: FREE HELP HERE.โโ โโATTENTION ALL HOT GIRLS,โโ he corrected, straightening up. โRight,โ I said, trying not to roll my eyes. โThatโs an important distinction.โ He pointed at me with the pool stick. โSpeaking of hot, I like that uniform.โ This time, I did roll my eyes.
Richelle MeadThen, as one hand tightened on me and his other ran gently over my hair, I noticed something. He didn't smell right.
Richelle MeadLove is . . .โ An old memory with Adrian came back to me, and some of the turbulent emotion I always carried within me these days welled up in my chest. It was stupid, feeling so lovesick when heโd been gone less than a day, but I couldnโt get him or the ways he described love out of my head. โ. . . a flame in the dark. A breath of warmth on a winterโs night. A star that guides you home.
Richelle Mead