"Because I should be the only one who looks at you like that," he murmured, his voice dropping low as he steps closer.
Miles Carter is notorious around town for being a player. Miles and his best friend, Finn, have always been well-known for their w...
I realise that I unintentionally write Aussie slang in my books and only realise when I get a bunch of comments asking me what I mean, as I abbreviate a lot of things. I have attached a video below which demonstrates our Aussie slang. If you're interested, check it out! You might get a bit more of an understanding of my shortened slang. (This is honestly how we speak on a daily basis haha)
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Dedication: Fritzdjine for posting one of the Bad Liar quotes onto your Instagram! Thank you! <3
Recap:
As I lightly kiss across his sharp collarbones, I hear a heavy thump, a loud groan and the sound of a crash outside my bedroom.
I snap out my trance and quickly reel into sitting position. My door swings open and I see a pained looking Finn, clutching his lg, his cheeks red.
"Door open!" he gasps out.
Miles and I exchange a look, before bursting out into laughter.
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"Are you staring?"
"No..." I trail off sheepishly.
"I think you might be," he teases.
I pout. "I can't help it. You're so adorable when you're sleepy."
A lazy smile spreads across Miles' face as he peers down at me through his half-closed lid.
"Thanks babe."
My stomach flutters at his word choice. I reach up and run my fingers through his ashy blond hair. He lets out a deep sound of agreement in the back of his throat, before pushing his head harder into my nails, reminding me of a cat that wants to be scratched.
After cuddling up to Miles for longer than I intended, I reluctantly leave him to shower and get changed into a loose sun dress. While Miles showers, I head downstairs, to see that Finn is lightly snoring in the lounge room, his mouth open as he lays in an unattractive sprawl.
I walk over to him and poke him in the cheek.
"Ergh," he groans and swats my hand away lethargically.
"Wake up, sleepy head."
"Nooo," he protests and hugs his pillow to his chest.
I smile down at him and shake my head. I pad into the kitchen, to see mum already there, the Sunday Telegraph perched in her left hand, a cup of coffee in the other.
