#1 in Young Adult
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#1 in Cold
#3 in Goodgirl
#1 in Sweetheart
#14 in Love
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He'd never met someone with such a bubbly personality. Not to mention the wildness and odd phrases she'd say every five minutes...
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❀Azalea❀
This morning, I've successfully hidden from Mr. Terrip's sight. I made sure to wear my hair down in front of my face to keep extra precautions in case he did see me.
Dad lost his job. So he drank. And drank. He 'accidentally' pushed the side of my face into the wall. Then he drank more.
I hardly slept last night.
I'm not sure how much more of it I can take.
The bruise that sits right on top of my cheekbone was not-so-easily covered by makeup. My foundation is light and not full coverage.
Thank goodness I only get pimples rarely. Or hickeys. Why hickeys? I've only had one hickey in my entire life.
Grey. The man who I've decided to not talk to until he gets his stuff straight. But it's not actually like I can keep my big trap shut.
A book called Satan comes into my view.
I didn't know Grey Kingston had a book written about him.
I feel utterly terrible for comparing Grey to the Devil.
An hour and a half into dusting the top of the tall bookshelves, the bell above the door rings. After a minute I feel a presence behind me.
"You're going to hurt yourself," a low voice mumbles behind me and I sigh. How does he know? Maybe I was a circus balancing act in a past life.
I adjust my footing on my ladder and peek down at him a little. He's looking up at me, a sweet tea in his hand.
My heart melts a bit but I suck it up and turn back around.
Did he bring that for me? Stop.
I finish dusting the shelf that nearly reaches the ceiling and now I've got nothing to do up here. What do I do? I dust that boy again.
"How many times are you going to dust it?" he questions and I figure that if I throw one of my legs back, it could possibly hit him in the face. But then I'd probably fall so I get rid of that thought.
I hear him set the tea down in a space on a lower shelf. Then I feel his hand on the side of my thigh. I look down and he's standing right under me, his dark eyes staring up at me.
I'm glad I'm not wearing a skirt toda-I'm wearing a dress.
"Are you looking at my goodies?" I question down at him and he doesn't move his eyes from mine as they take on a mischevious glint.
"You want me to?" his thumb rubs against my thigh and I nearly shiver.
