Page 13 of From the Ashes
“No secret girlfriends?”
“No.”
“Boyfriends?”
Heat prickled under my collar, but I kept my voice even. “No.”
“Huh. I’m surprised.”
“Why?” I laughed. “Fat and introverted aren’t exactly the top two traits people look for in a sexual partner.”
“Charlie,” he replied, his tone serious. “Stop putting yourself down like that.”
“Why? It’s true.”
“Being chubby and being introverted aren’tbadthings. They just are. I, for one, think you’re incredibly handsome.”
My cheeks burned and my heart did a backflip. I just hoped he didn’t notice the way my fingers twitched before I put them back behind my head to keep them still.
“You’re the only one,” I muttered, trying to throw him off my scent.
“Someday,” he said. “The people in this town are going to realize how much of a catch you are and by then you’ll have already snaggedthe most beautiful person anyone has ever seen, and it’ll be too late. They’re missing out on you, Charlie. You’re a catch.”
There was something about the way he said it that made me do a double take. But my embarrassment quickly overwhelmed that feeling and forced me back into my self-deprecating habits.
“I seriously doubt that, Nix. You’re the one that’s gonna be hot. You already are.”
“You think I’m hot?”
I rolled my eyes.
“No, no,” he laughed. “Don’t stop. I like the compliments.”
“I know. That’s why I’m stopping.”
“You tease. Nobody edges me the way you do, Charlie. My poor ego just wants to cum.”
I let out a sigh, shaking my head. “There’s something wrong with you.”
“What can I say? I’ve got dick on the brain.”
“You mean dickforbrains.”
“Dick for brains is what I be, and I’ll let you know what’s more,” he recited in a sing-song voice. “This dick I have reaches my knee and sometimes drags along the floor.”
Both of us broke into hyena-like laughter as he finished his poem. We rolled in the grass until tears ran down our cheeks and we could barely breathe.
“Did… Did you just make that up?” I asked, trying to force air back into my lungs.
“Yep,” he snorted. “And all true too!”
“Uh-huh. The poet laureate of rural Oregon. I’m sure they’ll be selling your books at every bookshop from here to New York in no time.”
He turned those big green eyes to me, a hand running through his messy auburn hair. “I sure hope so, Charlie-boy. I really do.”
“I think you can do it,” I said, biting my lower lip. “I really do.”
“I just have to finish one of these damn stories first.