All Rémy Miller has ever known are lies until someone is able to give him the life changing truth. When studying at Harvard University, his path unexpectedly collides with feisty freshman Céline Martin. Their meeting is not the ideal way to meet som...
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Lies:
I can handle myself just fine
She can use me any day.
As a pillow.
Or any other way her heart desires.
I slowly open my eyes and I know it's her silky strands that are wrapped into my fist. "Fuck' I'm obsessed with her hair." I think to myself.
I'm also incredibly stiff.
Everywhere.
This time I cannot desperately run into the shower again, because how many showers can a dude take before it becomes obvious.
I'm just glad I'm not waking up to accidentally holding one of her boobs.
Kind of.
It was tempting last night, and trust me, I was hanging on by a thread. I don't even think she would have minded. She was slowly becoming a squirmy flustered mess, and I can't help but to feel somewhat proud it was because of me. Whatever this is between us, neither of us knows how far it will go, and neither of us is going to stop the other. So, Istopped. Much against the horny voice screaming inside my head. He's still mad at me, because my head is throbbing with a headache. I fell asleep yesterday, sitting on the couch, and that's exactly how I woke up a minute ago. I think I fell asleep before her, while she was still hugging my hand which was tucked underneath her hoodie. Best hug ever. It's also exactly where my hand's still at. I could try to pull it back but I'm highly against it. One, if I move, I'm gonna make noise, because that hit I took yesterday feels worse today than it did last night and I don't want to wake her up. Two, I just really really like where my hand's at. I am peering down on her and if I were to look in a mirror right now, I'd see a stupid smile on my face.
"Morning Collie!" I hear one of my roommates yell.
And the smile is gone.
I also hate that damn nickname.
I get it though, Border Collies often have two colored eyes...
And I'm a douchey dog.
But still I'm allowed to hate it.
I turn my head to my roommate Brooks who walks into the living room looking like a zombie. That's what you get for partying on a Sunday. I give him a quick and angry glare and only now he realizes she's still here.
Asleep.
Yeah, well thanks, not anymore.
She's turning on her side and it makes her head wiggle in my lap, my hand now accidently cupping her breast. I press my lips and with a pained expression I carefully pull my hand away.
I never said no to a handful of boob before.
What's happening to me?
Wanting to hide my slip up I gently caress her gorgeous hair from her face and swoop it behind her ear. She's slowly waking up, and it's cute to know she's not an eyes open and awake kind of person. There's seriously something wrong with morning people. She's stretching out and yawning, she even rubs her eyes before rolling onto her back and her drowsy gaze takes me in. "Morning." She mutters before trying to hide her face into her hands. At the moment there's two things I can't hide. A smile and a stiffy, because she's rolling her head onto it and I'm internally groaning. I'm sure she knows it's there; it's acting like a freaking neck brace for the love of god. "To the both of you." She presses her lips the second she feels it. "Seriously?"
