Dear Rosie, (Love Letters #2)

12. Nate

TWELVE

NATE

She’s such a pretty little liar.

I wrap my fingers around her upper arms and keep her steady as I walk into her, making her walk back.

“W-what are we doing?” There’s a lace of panic in her voice, but it’s muted by desire.

And I don’t miss the way she said we . Because she already knows what we’re about to do.

“We’re going into the pantry.” I reach around her side to pull the door open.

She steps back, entering the tiny room. “Why?”

“Because, Ms. Rosalyn.” I move her farther into the room until the door swings shut behind me. “I need to taste you.”