✓ academic rivals
✓ enemies to lovers
✓ fake dating
✓ Many more of your favourite tropes <3
Lowen had been through hell and back to get to where she is now - one of the world's best upcoming music artists. But after releasing a few hit singles she k...
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Elijah left me hot and bothered. Jaw opened and gob smacked. Stomach churning, toes curling, hair messy, lips red.
As far as I know, Elijah isn't a player. I mean, that man cares more about his business than his own well-being. High school and college were purely for his education. I'm sure he's been with a fair share of women, but I still felt like he'd be lacking somewhere.
Maybe his dick would be small, or he wouldn't know what to do with his hands. Maybe he wouldn't be a great kisser. Maybe he'd be all talk, no play.
But no. I presumed wrong, and now I'm lay wide awake in my bed reliving the moment. It's been on repeat in my mind since I closed the door behind him.
I think it's a good thing that we got it out of the way, or else the paparazzi might have noticed my surprise.
I rolled over in my bed. The sheets rustled around me as I grabbed my phone from my nightstand. Eleven-thirty-eight. I pulled it out of charge, squinting at the bright screen.
Of all the things Elijah left me feeling, the strongest thing I felt was inspired. I turned down the brightness and began tapping away at my notes at, throwing random sentences, ideas, words and even rhymes down.
These weren't for 'Pierced', which is already finished and tied with a bow. This is for a possible sequel, new song or maybe even a new album. I have to release something after I 'break up' with Eli, so I may as well start on it now.
By half past one, I forced myself to turn off my device, because I am an adult for god's sake, I should be sensible enough to get eight hours of sleep.
I got five.
I woke up as usual at seven, groaning at the city noise outside my window. That's one thing I hate about living in New York. Back home, the noisiest thing you'd hear were the neighbours leaving for work. Or birds. Lots of birds.
Slumping into the kitchen, I decided to take a 'me' day. Normally Elijah would laugh at something like that. He'd tell me that with my 'job', everyday is a 'me day'. I could even hear the sentence in his voice. But now? I think I've broken that down. I don't think he's going to be mocking me anytime soon.
As much as I was desperate for him last night, I'm glad we didn't. Not only would we now be dealing with the consequences, I haven't been with anyone since Adam. Sex to me is intimate. I want to trust the person.
There's also the fears of him seeing me like a broken vase, holding itself together with a drop of superglue. He wouldn't have gotten the luxury of being with carefree, wild and trusting Winnie, which I'm sure he would've expected before he read my manuscript.
