Nothing More by Anna Todd Read Free Book Online Page B

art gallery shows prints of brightly colored abstract shapes hanging from string through its window. I haven’t been inside, but I can only guess how expensive the pieces are.
    â€œLandon!” a familiar voice yells from across the street.
    I search the sidewalk and see Dakota. Damn that woman and her lack of clothing. She’s dressed the same as yesterday: tight spandex, workout shorts, and a sports bra. Her chest is on the smaller side, but she has the perkiest tits I’ve ever seen. Not that I’ve seen a lot of them, but hers are amazing.
    She starts waving at me as she crosses the intersection, and if this isn’t some sort of fate-driven meet-up, I don’t know what is.

chapter
Six
    W HEN SHE REACHES ME , Dakota immediately wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me to her. Our embrace lasts a few beats longer than usual, and when she pulls away, she leans her head on my arm. She’s nearly a foot shorter than me, though I always liked to tease that her hair, that wild mass of curls, adds four inches onto her driver’s license stats.
    Her nose is red and her hair is particularly wild. It’s not cold yet, but it’s windy and air off the nearby East River adds a chill. She’s not dressed for the fall weather; in fact, she’s not wearing much of anything. I’m not complaining.
    â€œWhat are you doing over on this side of the tracks?” I ask.
    She lives in Manhattan, yet this is the second time I’ve seen her in Brooklyn this week.
    â€œRunning. Crossed the Manhattan Bridge, then just kept trucking.” Her eyes meet mine and then quickly dart to my forehead. “What the hell happened to your face?” Her fingers press against my skin and I wince.
    â€œIt’s a long story.” I touch over the sensitive spot with my fingers and feel the knot next to the cut.
    â€œDid you get in a street brawl on the way here?” she teases, and a tingling blossoms in my chest, me missing her even though she’s standing right here.
    There’s no way in hell I’m telling her what actually happened to my head. Or my knee. Gah, I feel like such a creep now that she’s in front of me and I think of her every time I make myself come.
    â€œNot quite.” I shake my head and continue: “I fell in the shower. But I like your version better. Definitely makes me sound cooler.” I chuckle, looking down at her.
    My answer humors her and she bounces on the heels of her bright pink Nikes. The yellow check mark on her shoes matches her sports bra and the pink matches her tiny, tiny shorts.
    â€œSo what are you up to? Do you want to get a coffee or something?” she asks.
    Her eyes dart across the street and she stares at the couple I saw earlier. Their hands are intertwined as they trot down the streets of Brooklyn. It’s a romantic sight, him wrapping his coat around her shoulders, leaning down to kiss her hair.
    Dakota looks back up at me and I wish I could hear what’s going on inside her head . Does she miss me? Does seeing that couple happy and holding hands make her want my affection?
    She wants to hang out with me now— what does that mean? I have absolutely nothing to do, but I probably should act like I have somewhat of a life outside of school and work.
    â€œI have some free time now.” I shrug my shoulders and she loops her arm through mine and leads the way. During the walk, I try to compile a list of normal conversation starters that would be nearly impossible to make come out awkward. I say “nearly” because if anyone has a talent for turning normal situations uncomfortable, it’s me.
    The walk to Starbucks is only a couple of blocks, but Dakota has been next to silent the entire time. Something is off with her, I can tell.
    â€œAre you cold?” I ask. I should have asked her earlier. She has to be cold, she’s barely dressed.
    She looks up at me, and her Rudolph nose gives her away even