Last First Love (Last First Kiss Book 4) by Anna Michael

Author:Anna Michael [Michael, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mols Books
Published: 2020-07-15T16:00:00+00:00

Lily

I spend the rest of the day thinking about whether to call Daniels. I mean, we've pretty much made a big old mess of everything already and I don't feel like there's much more risk of disaster after the entire flaming scrotum emergency. If I call him, it can only get better, right?

Or maybe I could call him and he could decide to rip into me for having the presumption to think that I'm even worth bothering with. I mean, who am I to him? What business do I have in even trying to make a move on a man that looks like a fitness instructor, a cover model, and maybe a porn star all rolled up into one?

I know he said he thought I was pretty—beautiful was the word he uttered, for anyone keeping score at home—but what if that was nothing more than pillow talk? What if a man like Daniels always talks that way to a woman he's trying to get undressed?

And speaking of undressed, we came really close to the danger zone when I scuttled into the bathroom wrapped up in a sheet. What happens when he actually sees me with my clothes off? All the lumps and bumps and hills and valleys, all the stretch marks and wiggly places.

Wouldn't that be enough to make a man that looks like a freaking Greek god statute come to life run screaming for the carefully groomed hills of the pert, pretty girls of Valentine?

I sigh. This entire train of thought is what Girl Club was supposed to help me fix. Instead I'm circling around and around in a tornado of negative self-talk that has me staring at myself in the mirror, thinking that I look okay for as fat as I am and then feeling ashamed for how fat I am, over and over again.

How long have I spent hating my body? Wishing I were a little more slender, that I could even think about a thigh gap instead of always trying to sit up straighter to minimize my tummy rolls. What if I were as beautiful as Daniels had made me feel? Would I be set free from this cycle of loving and hating myself all at the same time?

Fuck it. I'm going to call him. If I don't, I'll always get the what ifs when it comes to the man I've had such a giant crush on and I'm not going to live my life with any more regrets for the things I make myself miss out on. Especially if it possibly involves orgasms at the talented fingers of the hottest man in town.

My thumb hovers over his name and I finally squinch my eyes closed and call him. When it rings, I feel this churning panic begin in my stomach and start rolling ominously upwards, as if I might barf as a result of the simple act of calling him on the phone.

How pathetic. There's absolutely zero chance on earth that I'll ever be able

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