Daisy Haites: The Great Undoing: Book 4 (Magnolia Parks Universe)

My New Year’s Eve parties, they’re legendary.

I haven’t bought a date to one in about a decade because chances are, it’s not who I’ll spend the end of the night with anyway, but this year I do.

She actually hasn’t left my house since that night I bought her home.

Didn’t immediately bring her home though. Jonah’s desk is a convenient height and Magnolia Parks was very open to doing things that would wipe that shit-eating grin off her ex-boyfriend’s face.

Took her home after that — which I didn’t need to. Kind of felt like it though.

Liked how it felt having her wrapped around me, how it feels to move her through a room, up against walls, taking her on tables, etcetera etcetera. Decided to bring her home so I could move her through all the rooms.

She fell asleep before I did, facing in towards me, and maybe I watched her for a couple of seconds — wondered how someone gets a face like that, wondered how much a bottom lip has to weigh for it to part from the top one the way hers does. Thought about how many times over the years I’ve propositioned her, how many times she laughed it off and said no, but here I am, lying next to Everest herself.

If I’m honest, I always thought that the second I had her the spell would wear off. The fascination with her would dissipate into the oblivion of all my other conquests. I was sure that most of her allure was going to dry up the second we had sex, but we’ve had it now — three times that first night, I’ve lost count how many times since — and here is the part I don’t know what to do with: I’m still fucking rapt with her. Annoyingly so.

And I know that some boys — like the Hemmes boys, for example — when they hook up with a girl, they don’t like for them to stay the night. Me? I think that’s shit — they can sleep in my bed, I don’t care, what are they going to do?

Now, I don’t like it when they don’t know when to leave, but Magnolia — I didn’t like it when she looked like she was on her way out.

“Julian—” she said first thing that morning after. Her voice sounded strained.

“What?” I grunted, eyes still closed.

She cleared her throat, politely. “There is a giant dog on me.”

Shit. My eyes sprung open and I turned to her. “Okay don’t move — he’s an attack dog and he can be pretty aggressi—”

And then the dog lunged for her face and licked the shit out of her.

She erupted with laughter and how it sounded, I found disarming and I didn’t like it at all — so I shoved him off her so it would stop.

“Oh my gosh!” she cooed, sitting up and chasing after him, and I swallowed heavy because she still didn’t have any clothes on. “He is without a doubt the cutest, friendliest dog I’ve ever met!”

I glared at my dog, roughly pet his dumb head.

“You’re a fucking joke you are—” I told him.

Her head pulled back. “Excuse me?”

I squashed a smile. “I was talking to the dog.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks went a bit pink and she bunched the sheets up around herself. “Well, I should probably go anyway.”

Steeled my face. Made sure I didn’t show a lick of the disappointment that I felt for a second. “Plans?”

“I was going to get a massage today so I’m all ready for New Year’s—”

Tilted my head. “You need a massage to be ready for New Year’s?”

She fluttered her eyes, tilted her head back like I was the idiot. “Well, yes — you know — I like to be nimble.”

I sniffed a laugh and she pouted a little. Proud little thing.

“What?” She frowned.

I licked my bottom lip. “Don’t go.”

She looked a bit surprised. “Why?”

I shook my head. “I’ll get you a masseuse to the house.”

“Well, I was going to go to the gym.”

I shrugged. “I have a gym.”

She peered at me, suspicious. “I like to work with a trainer.”

“I’ll train you,” I told her, tossing her a crooked smile.

She moved in closer towards me. “Will you just?”

I nodded as I stretched my arms up, leaning back against my bed. “I have a pretty solid plan to work out every muscle you have.”

She swallowed, cheeks going pink again. “Do you not want me to go?”

I scoffed at her fishing. I don’t know why girls fish. It’s fucking annoying, what’s a girl like her got to fish for?

“No.” I shrugged, looking away from her. Pet my dog’s head. “Whatever. I don’t care— do what you want.”

She watched me for a couple of seconds. Looked a bit rejected — she’d be right.

“Well, so — what are you doing today?”

I leant in towards her, wondered if her mouth was that colour all the time or if she put something on when I wasn’t looking.

Licked my bottom lip. “You, hopefully.”

This smile cracked over her face that I liked, and then I did.

That was two days ago. It’s New Year’s now and she still hasn’t gone home. Had to nip out to Versace to buy her something to wear for tonight but I’m happy to report that she is, in fact, very nimble.

She also can eye-fuck like you wouldn’t believe. It’s probably the colour of them, I don’t know — might just be her.

The party’s started and she’s on the other side of the room with Taura and some girl they went to school with, and I know they’re talking about me.

I can tell by the way she’s looking at me. Head tilted, mouth pouty, eyes heavy.

The other two are looking over at me too, whispering, giggling—

I shake my head, look away because something about it makes me feel like a kid and I’m not one.

I flick a bottle of whisky that I want to be drinking and TK pours me a glass of it.

Have a quick catch up with my mate, Storm.

You get into a jammy situation, he’s your guy. He’s been my guy plenty of times.

He’s a good man, actually. Girls love him, but he’s funny about them. More so than I am. He thinks they’re too dangerous to have around.

He’s probably right. That’s why I never keep them around.

Probably why I should keep Parks around less, but then — our eyes catch again and I forget it all.

Koa and Decks are standing there, shaking their heads, smirking at me.

“What?” I frown when I see them.

“Got a bit of a crush there, do we?” Declan grins.

“No.“ I give him a dirty look.

“Oh—” Koa pulls a face. “Could have fooled me, you’ve been naffing that girl for the last seventy-two hours.”

I shrug.

“You previous record was Josette. Fifty-four hours.”

I don’t know what he’s insinuating but I don’t like it. “Bit too observant there, mate—”

Koa rolls his eyes. “I’m your head of security.”

“So?”

“So is it serious?” Declan asks me, watching her.

“No.“ I glance at him, annoyed. “When is it ever?”

I look over at her, still whispering to Taura, biting down on the tip of her thumb — why the fuck is her thumb in her mouth?

She looks over at me and we’re back to the eye-fucking.

“You gonna head on back over there?“ Koa nods his chin subtly towards her.

“Actually—” I give him a tight smile. “Yeah, I am.”

He lifts an eyebrow.

“I feel like you think you’re proving something—” I point at him. “But she’s just a decent shag.”

“If you say so,” he calls after me.

That’s what she is, because I don’t date. Can’t date. Besides, she’s in love with someone else, which is good. Serves as a nice natural buffer.

I can fuck about with her for a minute, no strings.

I love no strings.

“Oi.” I nod my chin at her as I walk over. “Hey Taus—” Kiss her cheek and then look at Parks, keen for a rise. “Is it weird for you that we’ve fucked?”

Taura rolls her eyes and Magnolia pouts. Doesn’t work how I want it to, because the shape her mouth goes just makes me want to kiss her.

“Well, I hadn’t considered it until now.” She presses her tongue into her top lip. “But yes — I suppose it’s not my favourite thought I’ve ever had in the history of time.” She looks away, has a big drink.

And I don’t get it — why it makes me feel weird and shit that she’s not looking at me anymore, that she looks uncomfortable — I wanted to make her uncomfortable. I think it’s fun watching how people tick, but that wasn’t fun.

I look for her eye and she doesn’t let me have it, so I take her by the wrist anyway and pull her away from her friends.

“Come upstairs with me.”

She takes her wrist back, still cross, always milking it. “What for?”

Tilt my head at her. “You know what for.”

Her face goes shy for a second before she glances up, frowns. “You have company present.”

I shrug, indifferent. “Want me to make them all leave?” Her eyes pinch, amused. She liked that. Loves a power move, this one.

“I will—” I give her half a smile. I might actually if it meant she’d do it.

She sniffs a laugh. I feel relieved.

“Come on.” I pick her up off the ground — light as fucking feather — carry her up the stairs.

“This is very uncouth,” she tells me on the way up, staring down her nose at me and I laugh.

Kick my bedroom door shut. Lay her down on my bed. “Well, I’m pretty uncouth.”

She gives me a look. “Yes, I’m learning that.”

“And you—” I toss her further up my bed towards the head. “You’re very excitable.”

She tilts her head, confused. “That sounds jovial, but I’ve got a feeling you might not mean it as a compliment?”

“I don’t.”

“Oh.” She frowns and I fight off a smile. God, she’s fucking cute.

Yuck. I hate thinking someone’s cute.

“You come too soon,” I tell her. And myself. Need to take some of the sheen of her off.

Her whole face goes pink. “No, I don’t—”

“Yes, you do,” I tell her calmly.

She sits up, hugging her knees to her chest “Says who?”

“Says me—” I give her a look. “The person you’re… not… coming with—”

“Oh.” She blinks twice quickly.

There’s usually something a bit fun about destabilising the confidence of girls like her — don’t know what that means anymore though, because that wasn’t fun and I’m not sure there are that many girls like her now.

“Oi.” I nod my chin at her. “How many people have you had sex with?”

Her head pulls back a bit, like she’s exposed or embarrassed. “Ever?” She blinks.

“Yes.”

She blinks more, sits up straighter. “Eight.”

“Ever?” My eyes go wide and she frowns defensively.

“Yes.”

“I had sex with eight different girls the fortnight before we started hooking up.”

“Oh.” She nods coolly. “Would you like a merit badge?”

“No.” I shrug, giving her a look. “Just an orgasm in sync with the girl I’m shagging.”

And it’s over to shallow breathing after that — don’t like it. Bunches up a bit, like she’s scrunched herself up into a ball. She’s a fucking mind bend to figure out, this one. She’s sharp and playful, but proud and fragile and insecure and gets her feelings hurt too easily, and I’ll be straight with you, I don’t really usually give a shit, but her — I want to lay her down, stretch her out, make her face look light again.

Most girls I sleep with, they’re just happy to be here, but with her, it’s me who’s happy she’s here — I mean, I’m not happy — like, don’t read into that. I’m indifferent, right? But, I mean, it’s fine she’s here, I don’t care. But I guess I must care a bit because after I’ve just said that she looks like I’ve just kicked her in the stomach.

Sucking on her bottom lip, looking embarrassed — I didn’t want to make her embarrassed, maybe just a bit more eager to please me. She doesn’t seem like she has much to prove to me. I’m not used to that.

“It just—” She gives a shrug like she doesn’t care — stares over at the bottle of tequila by my bed. Pours herself one into my glass from the night before. “Doesn’t happen for me like that—”

“Like what?” I squint over at her.

“That — you know—” She waves her hand towards me, like I am the physical embodiment of orgasms. “Just with BJ.”

Fuck. Why does that make me feel about two feet tall?

“Makes sense.” I nod like that didn’t sting. Why the fuck did that sting?

“I get nervous and then — tada.” She jazz-hands that. “It doesn’t usually — with like, one night stands—”

“It’s been three nights,” I tell her.

“Eventually I stop being so nervous—” Her nose is in the air now. She can’t lose face. “Most boys don’t seem to mind it—”

“Most boys are lying because they’re just happy to be there.”

“Isn’t it good that I’m excited?” She frowns. “Why’s that bad?”

“It’s not bad—” I shake my head at her, give her a shrug. “Just more fun together.”

I grab her by the ankle and stretch her out flat against my bed, crawl over her, hover for a second.

“What are you nervous of me for?“ I ask, looking down at her, smiling.

“BJ and Jonah, they always said to me if I was in danger and I couldn’t find them to come and find you—”

My eyes flicker to her mouth. “Don’t think they meant it like this—”

“No.” She purses her mouth. “I don’t suppose they did.”

“You did find me, though,” I tell her. Touch her face because I can.

“Mhm.” She nods once.

I find her eyes. “You don’t have anything to be nervous of.”

An hour later, she’s standing in front of my bathroom mirror in knickers and nothing else.

She’s leaning over the sink, pressing some lipstick back into her lips, and it takes a decent bit of my self control not to run my hand up her bare back and try for round two.

“Am I your date to this party?” she asks without looking at me as I pull on my jeans.

Usually I like to shower after I have sex. Don’t mind smelling like she’s been on me, though.

I shrug. “Guess so.”

She blinks then frowns at me. “You guess so?”

“I don’t usually bring dates to this—” I grab a t-shirt from my bathroom floor and she stares at it in my hand.

“Not that shirt—” she tells me before darting into my room and coming back a second later with a different one that to me looks like the same white t-shirt.

I glance at them in my hands, give her a look.

“The stitching on the shoulders of this one will make you look broader.”

“I am broad,” I grunt as I pull it over my head anyway and she tugs at the sleeves of the shirt and I swallow. I don’t like it when girls try to dress me or mother me, but I don’t move a fucking muscle as she runs her hand down the seams.

“Yes, you are. Very.” She nods. “But why not look broader still?”

I say nothing, looking past her in the mirror at myself and I won’t say it out loud but yeah, no — hers is better.

She turns back to the mirror. Mascara.

“Why don’t you usually bring dates to this party?” she asks her own reflection.

I stand behind her, slip my arms around her waist because no one can see me and I just feel like it. “Makes it harder to sleep with someone else at the end of the night.”

“Oh.” She bites down on her bottom lip, thinking. “Well, should we perhaps have a code word so I know if you’re wanting to bed another woman—”

Shake my head at her in the mirror, still pulling her back closer to me. “No, I’d just tell you to leave.”

“Oh.” She looks crestfallen for a minute and I sniff back a laugh because she’s a fucking rollercoaster of emotions. “That would be rather direct of you—” She purses her mouth. “Though I suppose I should appreciate that considering how indirect my ex-boyfriend is.”

“He fucked someone else.” I remind her, just because. “I’d say that’s pretty direct.”

She blinks twice when I say that, swallows once, then stands up straighter, stares at herself, eyes all busy. I think she’s looking for something wrong with her face but it doesn’t exist and she still glares at herself anyway.

She breathes out, looks down, and I have this urge to move the hair from her neck and kiss it but that’s weird, so I don’t.

I shift my hand to her waist, stare at her through the mirror.

“I’m not going to sleep with someone else tonight.”

“Why?” she asks quietly.

I smirk, eyes falling down her. “Have you seen you?”

And then she turns in my hands, face pulling all upset and I tilt my head confused.

“People say things like that to me quite often — like being beautiful is a personality trait.” She glares up at me. I like it when she goes defiant. “Like it’s all that I am.”

My eyes pinch, interested. “You don’t like it?”

She crosses her arms over her bare chest. “I think it makes it easier for people to treat me not like a real person.”

Fuck.

“You think BJ doesn’t treat you like a real person?”

“I think that he thinks that me being beautiful will absorb the brunt of his repeated rejections but all it’s done is show me that beauty is worth nothing in the end.”

She moves past me back into my room, over to my bedside table, and finishes her tequila from before. Downs it. She doesn’t like spirits. Hates them, actually. And you know what — fuck it, I hate him. I didn’t before, but I hate him now.

Cock my head towards my door. “Should we go back downstairs?”

She breathes through her nose as I toss her her dress. “What if he’s there?”

“He probably will be.” I nod.

Her eyes go bigger, all nervous and shit, and I grab her by the waist again, ducking so we’re eye-to-eye.

“Oi. Knives out, remember—” I give her a look. “We’re making him bleed.”