Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
“It is. It really is. Pity he’s a killer.”
“A what, dear?”
“And he owns seggs clubs.”
“Aka, sex clubs for those who don’t say bad words,” Simone yells.
“I know what she meant,” my mother yells back to her, and Simone starts laughing again. “Do you like him?” she asks me.
“That’s all you have to say?” I’m shocked that she isn’t more concerned.
“Well, you were in an unhappy relationship, and I want you to be happy now. No matter what. But preferably with no more drugs, please.”
“I don’t do drugs.” Then I wince when I realize she is talking about the brownie. “That was Simone…” I smile. “She’s a bad influence on me. Plus, she’s sleeping with Harvey, so you may get grandkids after all.”
“Like hell,” Simone yells.
To which my mother says, “In the next two years, please, while I can still help babysit and before I start traveling.”
“I am not having kids,” Simone replies.
“Sure, you aren’t.” I smile as another knock comes on the door.
“Gosh, does that door ever shut up?” Simone grumbles, getting off the couch to answer the incessant noise.
As she pulls it open, I look up.
Jake is standing there.
And his eyes are on mine.
Chapter 23
Who the fuck wants feelings?
Jake
The smart thing to do is to stay away.
But for some stupid reason I keep getting drawn back to her. It’s like someone has a noose around my neck and keeps pulling it tighter until I am with her, or near her, and I can finally breathe.
Who the fuck thinks like that about a woman.
Is this why fuckers get married, these stupid feelings they get.
Oriana likes to tell me to go away or to lose her number. But each and every time I see her, I know she is feeling whatever the fuck it is I am as well. Some sort of fucked up feelings.
“Who is that?” a lady lying next to Oriana asks. Her friend leaves the door open, and I step in. Oriana turns her head away from me and stares up at the ceiling.
“Aren’t you meant to be… I don’t know, making another happy?” she says.
“You mean…making her come?” I say smugly.
She waves a hand in the air. “Yeah, that.” Everything goes silent before she says. “I told you to lose my number.”
“It seems I keep getting drawn back to you, but when you said that, you never mentioned anything about showing up,” I tell her. “I’m off to Italy soon. Would you care to accompany me?”
“Italy! Oh, how wonderful,” the woman next to her exclaims. “You must go, Oriana. And bring me back some wine.”
“Wine?” Oriana asks.
“Yes, wine. They have the best wine. Moscato, please, that’s my pick.”
Oriana rolls her eyes, and as I take in the kitchen, my gaze snags on a packet of brownies. I stride over and pick it up, then open the bag and take a smell. “You’re high,” I state, standing over her.
“Yep, and so is my mom.” She points her thumb to the lady next to her.
“Your mother?” I ask surprised.
Fuck, meeting the mother.
“Yep. Bit early to meet the family, don’t you think? But here you are.” Oriana smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. I hide my smirk at the attitude she loves to give me. Her lids fall shut as she lies still and I glance at her mother, immediately seeing the resemblance.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Jake. I’ve taken Oriana here on a few dates,” I say to her mother.
“Dates,” Oriana says, giggling. “Dates where he seggses my brains out.”
Lifting my hand to wipe the corner of my lips, I hide my smile at her outburst.
“Oriana!” her mother yells. Then she looks back at me with a kind smile. “Nice to meet you. This is Simone.” She points to the woman on the couch. “Excuse Oriana, she’s high and incapable of using the right words in such a state.”
Oriana waves a hand in my direction. “He uses the right word. Why don’t you tell my mother your favorite word?”
“Do you plan to lie on the floor the entirety of my visit?” I ask her.
“I didn’t invite you, so yes! And you can leave any time.” I look over my shoulder to see her friend asleep on the couch. Her mother is almost out too. And Oriana is giving me a death stare. “And tell your brother to leave me alone.”
“I did. That’s why I’m here. And to ask you about Italy, but you seem very distracted.”
“Yes, you should leave.” She waves a hand in the direction of the door before she sits up, crawls over to the counter, and pulls a pizza box down, opening it and eating a slice. Her mother starts to snore softly, and she giggles at her. “Why are you really here, Jake?” Her expression is questioning. “You told me to leave. And our dates are done, are they not?”