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217 pages, Kindle Edition
First published March 14, 2015
"Listen, asswipe, I know you were talking to me. I’m the only fat one here. So what do you want, or were you just saying hi?"Thierry likes her personality and body immediately — and he’s not afraid to admit to the reader when he has a boner (“No boners in a public bakery. Not cool, man,” Thierry tells himself). Never once does Hendin send Theirry down a path of shame or uncertainty for his attraction to Olivia. I was so impressed by this. They have sex and go on a date and flirt and OMG. Once again, I’ve got a book in which a character asks, “Can I kiss you?” and I just love this trend. If people had asked permission to kiss when I was dating, I would have felt less nervous on dates!
"Charmer.”(Sidenote: I'm a sucker for when a guy asks if he can kiss you, especially on a first date. It's adorable and makes my heart go all fluttery. So as soon as he did that I was DONE.)
“Nah, not so much.” He wraps his arm around me, and we slow down a little. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Go for it.”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Go for it, handsome.”
He smiles, short and brilliant, before lowering his lips to mine. He tastes like apples and mint, and his stubble scratches me a little bit. And my head spins, spins, spins, because Thierry kisses like he lives, full throttle and enthusiastically, and I swear my knees are weak.
I kiss him back, not caring that we’re standing in the middle of a sidewalk in front of someone’s house, because there are muscled arms and strong fingers trailing up and down my back, and there’s that hair, that hair just waiting for me to plunge my hands in and swim in him. And so I do, because I can, because I want to, because it’s Thierry, the guy who colors pictures for me and yells at his teammates for being assholes and doesn’t mind being dragged through fabric stores and probably looks really fucking good in a baseball uniform.
I kiss him until I’m dizzy, until I’m tugging on his coat because I really just want to trace the V I know he’s hiding under his shirt, until he’s tugging on my coat, until the kiss goes from just enthusiastic to urgent, until it goes from a “happy apple cider” kiss to a desperate, “we probably shouldn’t have started this in the middle of a sidewalk somewhere far away from our dorm rooms in January”-kind of kiss.
Until some guy pokes his head out a window in one of the houses on the block and yells for us to get a room.