eleven

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Sloane Beck

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Sloane Beck

He was going to be the one that ended me.

"One more bite," I narrowed my eyes. "If I bite something else would you shut the fuck up?" He nodded before chuckling. He reached for his water again, drinking it.

I fucking hated him.

He was a temperamental douchebag. He was hot to touch but cold on the inside. It was only a matter of seconds or minutes until his ticking time bomb personality would erupt. His favorite thing to do though? Blow up on me.

He wasn't all guilty though—I blew up on him too.

This is exactly why this deal was a bad idea.

I was supposed to eat six sushi rolls.

Six.

And he was begging me to finish my tenth? No.

He had been staring at me from across the table since he had finished eating about fifteen minutes ago. Although he had just consumed his meal, he looked at me as if I was the prey he was about to eat next.

"I can't eat anymore or I'm going to throw up," I stood up from the table. I was going to be throwing up either way.

I collected my garbage before throwing it away. I walked over to my couch, laying down on my back. My legs, however, didn't lay flat. They were sat up, in hopes that everything wouldn't digest as fast as my body was making it.

The quicker it goes down, the harder it is to get out.

"Blondie, baby, we need to talk about the schedule." I cleared my throat. We had a million pieces of furniture in this living room and nothing irritated me more than when he sat down at my feet.

I stand corrected.

Nothing irritated me more than the fact that he pulled my legs flat down across his lap, placing his tattooed arms over the top of them.

"Why are you being like this?" I asked as he winked at me. "I don't know what you're talking about." I glared.

"You're being nice. Way too nice—I call bullshit." He chuckled as I crossed my arms over my chest. Slowly, his fingers started tracing patterns on my lower legs. "I'm always nice," This time I had to be the one to let out a laugh.

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