Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
I thought offering to cook dinner would be a good way of proving something to Allie, but instead, I’m left out of the group, missing what’s being said to make her laugh and whose comment has her twirling a lock of chestnut hair around her finger.
Forcing myself to focus on the task at hand, I chop the lean chicken breast as the sharp aroma of herbs and spices fills the kitchen. The sizzling intensifies as the chicken hits the heat of the pan, and I add vegetables and coconut milk before leaving the curry to simmer on a low heat.
The rice will take around twenty minutes to cook, and while it’s absorbing the lightly salted water, I have a little time to join the group.
“So, what’s the plan for tomorrow?” Oliver asks Allie. He’s reclining on the sofa opposite her, dressed in slacks and a pressed white shirt, his arms spread over the back of the sofa.
“Well, I want to interview some of you one on one. And maybe we could head down to the beach. I have a task that could be a fun icebreaker.”
“You think there’s still ice that needs to be broken?” Jonas asks.
“I think we cracked the ice when we handed you replicas of our cocks,” Theron comments dryly.
I check the table outside and find it clear. “Where are our cocks?”
“I took them upstairs,” Allie says softly.
“Oh, yeah?” Jimmy leans closer. “Planning on finding out if size really does matter all by yourself?”
“I volunteer my purple plastic cock as tribute,” Tom says.
“Closet Hunger Games fan over there,” I laugh.
Tom raises his hands, grimacing. “I have sisters. It’s impossible to miss all that teen girl stuff.”
“That’s my excuse too.”
“The walls are thin in this place,” Oliver says. “I’ll hear the buzzing if she does.”
Russell stands, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he strolls away from the group. Allie watches him go, her pretty shadow rimmed eyes taking in his disquiet at the conversation. Of all the men here, I don’t get why Russell signed up for this assignment. Everything about his body language and lack of involvement in the conversation screams that he hates the sexual nature of the conversation. It’s like he feels Allie shouldn’t be subjected to gutter talk, and I get that. These kinds of discussions usually happen in flirty situations when people are drunk and on their way to hooking up, not over a coffee table with ten other near-strangers.
“I’m not going to be testing out your dildos,” Allie says. “I think they’re going to be used as photographic material for the article.”
“Is that it?” Jonas scoffs. “My poor dick did not enjoy being stuffed into a cold mold. And if it’s just going to get tossed away, it wasn’t worth it!”
“Maybe you can take it home as a keepsake?” Stefan suggests. “Something to remember your time here.”
“Maybe Allie can keep it to remember me by?” Jonas says. “When she gets home, and the walls are thicker, and Oliver isn’t pressing his ear to listen to her every move.”
Oliver rolls his eyes, raising his chin. “If you think I’m the kind of man who needs to listen at doors to get off, I’ve given the wrong first impression.”
“I think we can all see what a gentleman you are,” Allie says, as the timer rings from the kitchen, prompting me to jump up and check on the progress of dinner. Gabe and Theron follow, and begin to gather plates, silverware, and glasses, slowly carrying everything over to the long dining table.
I take a spoonful of fragrant sauce, letting it sit in my mouth, waiting for my tongue to detect all the flavors. It needs a little more salt, which I sprinkle into the steam and stir. Is it good enough? I think so.
The rice is fluffy and perfect, too, and as I take the two huge pans over to the table, I let out a sigh of relief.
“Food’s ready.”
Clay claps his hands in anticipation. “I hope you’ve made enough for twenty. I’m hungry like the wolf.”
“Hey, I love that song,” Russell says.
“Me too.” Allie takes a seat next to him, casting a broad encouraging smile in his direction. “Duran Duran rock.”
“Isn’t that old people’s music?” Stefan asks, reaching out for the spoon in the curry. “I thought you youngsters would be more into Justin Bieber.”
“Hey…no disparaging remarks about Justin.” Allie scowls as she gazes at the food in front of her. “Bieber Fever Forever!”
“Oh that’s cute! She’s fangirling.” Oliver takes a mouthful of curry and makes an appreciative moaning sound in the back of his throat. “Seriously, Carson, I’m fangirling all over your curry. That is delicious. Did you really make it from scratch?”
“I did.”
“Don’t get too excited,” Clay says. “It’s the only recipe he knows. He wheels his mom’s specialty out whenever he needs to impress someone.”