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62: January one
I am wearing my boots. The combat boots my boyfriend gifted me on our anniversary. I catwalk to the front of my mirror and twirl. Hayden groans behind me. I spin in another circle to annoy him and he sends a pillow flying at me. I duck and the pillow hits the mirror. Picking it from the floor, I launch it at his head.
“I swear to God if you smile at that shoe one more time I’ll stab myself in the eye with a fork.”
My face contorts at the imagery his words provoke, he shoves a fistful of popcorn into his mouth. If he’s so pained, he shouldn’t be sprawled on the bed in my room, eating my snacks. Turning to the mirror with a bigger smile, I lower myself to my seat and inspect the boots on my legs. I can’t get over them.
They are so soft and bloody expensive. The heels are perfect, a few inches to boost my height. I tried not to check the price but that didn’t end well. It cost a fortune. The best part is t
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