Life Before Damaged Vol. 8 (The Ferro Family) by H. M. Ward Page B

but that's not what I meant." He reaches for the paper bag next to us, takes another cookie and, before placing it in between his lips again, says, “Ready for round two?”
    My brow lifts slightly as my lips part. What? Do I want to do this again? The kiss was perfect, but I feel like I’m drowning in lust and things that will never be. But those lips, and deep blue eyes.
    I suck in air suddenly, not realizing that I stopped breathing.
    My eyes dart to the side. No, I’m not ready for round two. Every time we kiss, it results in him taking a piece of my heart. I don’t know how many times I can do this before there’s nothing left. I have to keep him in the friend zone. I can’t do the casual, flirtatious kisses without any true feelings behind them, not with Pete. Still, I don’t want him to know what he does to me.
    My mask is on, and my walls are up. I smirk at him and push off his lap in a playful way that nearly brushes a nipple across his cheek. I’m a tease in that moment, I’m someone else—someone who doesn’t care.
    “Sorry, Pete. I don’t do chocolate chip. I'm not that kind of girl. I told you I was classy.”
    I’m crouched in Pete’s face, ready to straighten when a couple of black crows whip past me. One pelts me in the head. I startle and fall onto Pete’s lap. I’m trapped by Pete’s thighs propped up behind me.
    At the same time, Pete starts to thrash. The crows are swarming and pecking at his face. I let out a scream.
    “Omigod! Omigod! Omigod!” I flap my hands like I’m one of the birds. The crows keep pecking away at Pete’s face and his arms flail like mad, trying to get the birds away.
    Pete is mumbling something. He can’t talk because his mouth is full of cookie and crows. It sounds like “Gnff! Gnff!” It takes a minute, but then I put it together.
    Oh, shit! He’s saying, get off!
    I manage to roll onto the grass, and Pete stands up, swatting the birds away. But the crows don’t leave. They stick around, pecking at the remains of the chocolate chip cookie Pete spat on the ground. The look on his face is priceless. I’ve seen Pete fight. I’ve even seen him up close when he has that angry look in his eyes, but nothing comes close to the venom he’s giving those crows.
    I crawl over to the birds, shooing them away before he can commit birdicide. They take flight and Pete jumps, covering his head with his arms. It’s too much. I roll on the ground, laughing my ass off.
    “Oh, my God! Pete Ferro! Scared of little birds! Tweet, tweet!” I howl in between laughs.
    Pete doesn’t think it’s funny. He picks up our things, helps me up roughly and stomps off, pouting.
    “Aw, Pete! Come back! They just wanted some of your loving too! Come on! Give a bird a cookie!” Pete flashes the middle finger at me, walking away in a huff. I have to run to catch up with him.
    Every time a bird flies by, Pete jumps and covers his head, making me laugh even harder.

A SMIDGEN OF CATNIP
November 16th, 9:19am
    I stare at my phone's screen, sitting cross-legged on my bed, surrounded by open notebooks. How did my love life get so complicated?
    I read Philip’s text message over and over again as if I'll see the answers if I just read it one more time.
    I’m sorry I got angry. I miss you. Please meet me at the club tonight? I want us to work this out, somehow. I need to see you
    It's been two weeks since my date with Pete. I haven't seen or heard from him since, except hearing his door slam when he comes home in the middle of the night and when he leaves early in the morning. I have no clue where he goes or what he does, and I'm not in any hurry to find out. Even the gossip rags and newspapers haven't mentioned anything about him lately.
    Apart from our heated kiss in Central Park, I feel like I’m closing in on nunnery more and more every day. I think back on my talk with Pete, the one about having no regrets. I don't want to be unloved and untouched forever. Philip's invitation is