DANIEL
- Ice cream... - she murmurs, and I can't help the smile that appears on my lips.
She has an unhealthy obsession with it. And milkshakes. And everything vanilla, basically. She's putting it in everything I eat or drink, trying to convert me to her side. I reach out and push a stubborn red strand away from her forehead, and my hand lingers there, then slowly slides to her flushed cheek. I know I should feel guilty. I should be beating myself up and confessing to every god on the planet for f*****g my best friend's daughter and loving her. For thinking about doing it again. For being messed up and loving the fact that I'm her first.
But I'm not. Because I'm a sick bastard, and I don't apologize for it. What's the point of confessing if you don't stop doing the deed? And no,
