Page 8 of Sour Lollipops and Sweet Nightmares (The Society #1)

This couple had desire, sure, but it was sloppy and needy. When someone finally kissed me, I wanted to be so consumed by them that their breath was the only thing filling my lungs.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t see that happening anytime soon. Or ever. In reality, I’d have to talk to someone first.

Attempting to ignore my breakfast companions’ smacking sounds, I flipped another page and turned my attention back to my food.

Maybe I should call my mom? Hearing her voice might make me feel better. Last year, after class, I could go home and talk to her. That was about the only good thing in my old state college. Here it was just me and an empty house.

Don’t get me wrong, it had everything I needed—bedroom, seating area with a loveseat and desk, a bathroom, and a small kitchen—and I was happy for the privacy, but it would be nice to have someone to invite over.

Especially at night, when all I could hear were the hoots from the creepy owl who sat in the tree outside my window.

Normally, I didn’t mind animals, but that thing with his big yellow eyes was straight up evil.

It watched me all night. It didn’t move an inch, just sat there perched on its branch and stared.

Not even the curtain could block it out.

Its eyes shone through the fabric, like a creepy nightlight.

Yet another reason why I needed someone in my life. Then that owl could stare at them.

Change wasn’t easy, but no one was going to do it for me.

So, I told myself this morning that I would talk to one person today.

And I did try. While out on my run, I spotted a girl all by herself walking down the path, who was carrying a couple of geology books.

But when she looked up at me, I panicked, asked her the time, and ran away.

That was an hour and a half ago, and I’d probably analyzed that moment a thousand times in my head. Would she have been nice? Would I have liked her? Would she like me? Did I miss my opportunity to make a friend? There was something I never thought I would want.

“Hey there. You look like you could use some company.”

That guy had no problem approaching someone.

I bet it was easy for him. Just walk up and say hi.

Why couldn’t I do that? I had no problem telling those guys off last night.

I was too angry and frustrated to overthink it.

I just reacted. Maybe I needed to get angry?

Although I couldn’t imagine that would help me come across as friendly to people.

“Hello.”

A hand pressed down on the table next to my breakfast tray, causing me to look up at the warm smile of a dark-haired man. He was unquestionably homecoming king material. He had all the requirements.

Charming smile, aura of arrogance with a playful sparkle in his bright eyes, and fashionable jeans and shirt. Did they give the guys in this place a beauty enhancement drug, because I had yet to see a single unattractive man. At this point I’d settle for plain.

“There you are.”

Was he talking to me? That didn’t seem right. Guys who looked like him usually talked to cheerleaders and sorority girls. They didn’t approach girls reading a book while eating scrambled eggs with ketchup.

He tipped his head, causing that playful sparkle in his eyes to glitter. “Did you forget how to speak?”

Something was wrong here. This guy obviously worked out, and he took pride in his appearance. I was wearing ripped jeans and a Reba McIntyre t-shirt that I’d worn so much her name was barely legible. Clearly, he wasn’t speaking to me.

“You’re not deaf, are you?”

Or maybe he was?

His brow rose. “Are you okay?”

I was staring, wasn’t I?

Look away, Georgia, just look away… no wait. I should say something back. Hi. How are you? I could ask him about his day. Say anything!

“Blueberries.”

Don’t say that.

Well, there went that conversation. But I did talk to him, so it still counted.

“The blueberry muffins here are fantastic, but the ones in the diner down the street are much better.”

“Okay?” What was happening?

The smile on his face widened. “You should let me buy you a muffin sometime.”

Did he just ask me out? Was this flirting? Should I flirt back? Would that give him the wrong impression?

“I’m having eggs,” I said, despite the fact that he could quite possibly see what I was eating.

“So, you are.” He chuckled, and to my surprise, he didn’t leave. Instead, he pulled out the chair beside me and had a seat. “But you forgot the bacon. You can’t have eggs without bacon.”

“I ate it already.”

“Nice.” He nodded. “I like a girl who enjoys her meat.”

Why did that feel like a joke? He was smiling. Should I laugh? If I did and it wasn’t a joke that would be bad. Or would it? Did I want to talk to him? I was so confused, mostly about why this guy was still here.

“Besides blueberries and eggs, what else do you like?”

Why did he want to know what I liked? Did he want something from me, or was this idle conversation? If so, how did I respond? Was I supposed to tell him what I liked or what I thought he wanted me to like? What was the social norm? I needed more context.

Or, maybe you should just answer the damn question, Georgia.

“Rocks,” I blurted out. “I like rocks.”

“Oh, you’re one of those crystal girls.”

Confusion pulled my brows together. “What?”

What was a crystal girl? Did he mean literally or metaphorically, because people weren’t made out of crystals.

“You know, those girls who think crystals have healing powers and bring you luck.”

Why would anyone think that? “Crystals are minerals that exhibit a crystalline structure. They don’t have magical properties, and they aren’t rocks.”

He looked at me.

I looked at him while covertly trying to wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans.

Nervous didn’t begin to explain how I felt. That was most definitely not the thing to say. However, if I were going to make a friend, I would prefer one that didn’t want me to be someone else.

He eyed me. “You’re not very good at this, are you?”

What was his first clue?

“Okay, let’s start with something easy. Hi.” He held out his hand. “My name is Kash, and you are?”

“Georgia.”

“See,” he smiled. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

Not really.

“Now you take my hand, Georgia, and give it a shake.”

I looked down at his hand, then rolled my eyes back up to his face. “I don’t want to do that.”

My heart was already hammering in my chest. I did not need to add touching to my anxiety.

“Okay,” he nodded and dropped his arm. “Not a touchy-feely girl. I can respect that.”

Was I supposed to thank him?

“Tell me about yourself, Georgia.”

“Why?”

“Well,” he said. “That’s usually how these things go. I ask you questions, and you ask me questions. Or, you could tell me to fuck off.”

I was awkward, not rude. But questions… that I could handle. I’d look at it like a tutoring session where Kash was the subject. That was a weird way to look at it, wasn’t it?

“How old are you?” I blurted out before I had a chance to overthink.

“Twenty-three.” He answered. “You?”

“Nineteen. What’s your major?”

“Business economics.”

“Ugh, that sounds boring.”

Mortified, I slapped my hand over my mouth.

That was not the response I should’ve given.

This reaction was why I didn’t talk to people.

Who was I to judge his major? I spent my time studying rocks.

Most people would find that boring. The first person I spoke to in I don’t know how long, and I insulted him.

Way to go, Georgia.

My confusion grew when he chuckled instead of getting mad. “You’re right. It’s very boring.”

“So, why are you taking it?” That question would’ve come out a lot better if I had taken my hand off my mouth first. This chat was not going well.

His brow arched. “You don’t talk to many people, do you?”

“No,” I said with my hand still on my mouth.

“Would it help if I told you I wasn’t an asshole?”

No, because that is precisely what an asshole would say, which led me to my next question. “Why are you talking to me?”

“I’ll tell you if you take your hand off your mouth.”

Oh crap. Was I still doing that?

It was harder than it should’ve been to drop my hand, but I managed to let go of my chin and cheeks and flatten my palm on the table.

“There we go.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “Now I can see your pretty mouth.”

Pretty mouth? “What do you want?”

“Okay, right down to it.” He blew out a breath. “Do you want the honest answer?”

“Yes.” Why would I want a dishonest answer? Did anyone like being lied to?

Seeking something for comfort before I slapped my hand over my mouth again, I reached out and picked up my coffee mug.

“I want to fuck you, Georgia.”

Coffee sprayed from my lips as I coughed down what remained in my throat.

“Pardon me?”

That was blunt and not at all expected.

“I want to fuck you,” he repeated.

“Me?” I asked, unsure if he was talking to me, despite the fact that he was looking straight at me.

“Oh yeah.” His eyes trickled down my side, making me feel very exposed. “My dick has been hard from the second you walked in here.”

Don’t look at it. You don’t want to see that…

Damnit, I looked.

I quickly turned my face to the side as heat flooded my cheeks.

“You’re so sexy when you blush.”

I didn’t know how to respond, and not because I was worried about what to say. There were literally no words in my brain.

He leaned in so close that his breath warmed my ear. “Stop chewing on your lip or I might bite it.”

I immediately sucked my bottom lip into my mouth. No one would be biting anything.

“Fuck, I love the good girl act.” He let out a low groan that increased my mortification and made me look around, fearful that people were watching.

No one was.

“Now,” he sucked in a breath and sat back. “I’m not promising a relationship or anything like that—I don’t do girlfriends, Georgia—but I will make you come, a lot. Preferably while you’re riding my face.”

He did not just say that.

For the first time since I sat down, the girl at my table pulled her face off the guy she was making out with, and looked my way. “He’s not lying. Kash has skills.”

“Thank you, Rachel. See,” Kash waved his hand at her. “I have references.”

Not sure if I would consider that a reliable reference, nor did I want any.

“So what do you say, Georgia? You want me to lick your pussy until you’re screaming my name.”

What did I say? “Um… no thank you?”

Kash was attractive and all, but I had yet to kiss someone, let alone have sex. Not to mention, I was a little scared of him. I was still holding my coffee mug in the air, unsure if I wanted to take a drink or throw it at him.

“Playing hard to get,” he winked. “I like it.”

“I’m serious.” Could he not tell that? Maybe I said it wrong? I should clarify just in case. “I don’t want to have sex with you.”

“Not yet, but you will.” He sounded awfully sure of himself. “You’re not the first shy girl I’ve met. Just ask Rachel. I broke her out of her shell.”

But I wasn’t shy, and I highly doubted Rachel was, given the fact that she had gone back to making out in the middle of the cafeteria. Shy people didn’t like public displays of affection, or public anything.

“There’re a few things we should go over first. Certain kinks I have… How are you with anal?”

Did I miss something? As far as I knew, I hadn’t agreed to anything.

“It’s okay, anal is something we can work up to.”

Work up to? How about we work up to a kiss, or a date? Something normal.

“Let’s see,” he scrolled through something on his phone. “I have next Monday night open, does that work for you?”

Was he scheduling sex? How many partners did he have? I had so many questions, none of which I honestly wanted to know the answer to.

“No.” It most definitely did not work for me.

“Okay, well the only other time I have available this month is on the fifteenth, but we would only have two hours.”

Only have? How much time did he need?

“I don’t want to have sex with you.” I couldn’t be any clearer than that.

“Oh, but you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

He gave me a nod. “Yes, you do.”

“I really, really don’t.”

“Your mouth is saying no, but your body is saying something else.”

The only thing my body was saying was ‘run away.’

“Alright,” Kash stood up and said, “I’ll hit you up Monday and see how you feel. Don’t make me wait too long, Georgia. I like the chase, but I can get a little rough.”

Then he walked away, leaving me to sit there and wonder what just happened.

There was a lot I didn’t understand about social interactions, but I was fairly sure that was not how typical flirting went. I was weird, and maybe my oddness rubbed some people the wrong way, but that… I didn’t know what to call that.

I don’t think a social butterfly would know what to call that. It was some kind of strange karmic retribution that he was the first person I talked to on campus.

Either way, it was not something I wanted to repeat ever again. I put the encounter out of my mind and finished my breakfast. Talking to someone was no longer something I wanted to do. Not if they were like that.

“I told you this shit wasn’t over.”

Fearing that Kash had come back, I sighed, lifted my chin, and froze when I saw a pair of familiar turquoise eyes.