“My birthday is not for another week,” I remind her, even though I know she’s got the date marked on her calendar. We can go to Chicago, celebrate your birthday.” Still, if there’s anybody I’d want to have my first time with, it’s definitely Jake. He’s just too popular not to be a player. Now I’m much more careful about the guys I date, although I know not all of them are like Rob. He groveled profusely when I confronted him about it, but I couldn’t trust him again and we broke up. Last year, when I was dating Rob, we nearly went all the way, but then I found out he slept with another girl at a party while drunk. I try to imagine what sex with Jake would be like. Our bodies touch, rub against each other. Sexy dreams, sensual dreams, where he holds my hand, touches my face, kisses me. I feel warm inside, and I want to squirm in my seat. Whenever he walks by, I feel my heart beating faster from excitement. I have no idea if I’ll like Jake as a person, but I certainly love how he looks without his shirt. He’s got cheerleaders climbing all over him, and I’ve been watching him long enough to know that he goes for tall blond girls, not short brunettes.īesides, for now it’s kind of fun to just enjoy the attraction. Jake and I don’t run in the same circles. He’s the quarterback and the hottest guy on the planet-or at least in the Chicago suburb of Oak Lawn, Illinois. I’m not the only girl watching Jake, of course. Out there on that field, practicing every day. Something I know nothing about, but pretend I love because that’s where I see him. “Nora, come on, this is boring,” Leah says as we sit on the bleachers watching the game. I’m seventeen years old when I first meet him. I wake up screaming his name, my sheets soaked through with cold sweat.įor a moment, I’m disoriented. He lifts the knife one last time, and the pool of blood turns into an ocean, the rip current sucking me in. Inhuman shrieks of pain and agony that slice me open, leaving my mind as raw and mangled as her flesh. I want to move, but I’m restrained, tied in place, the ropes cutting into my skin as I struggle against them. I want to scream, but I can’t draw in enough air. I’m drowning in blood, suffocating in it. I can taste it, smell it, feel it covering me. The pool of dark red liquid on the floor is spreading, multiplying.

Twist me series by anna zaires