Total pages in book: 198
Estimated words: 186242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 931(@200wpm)___ 745(@250wpm)___ 621(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 931(@200wpm)___ 745(@250wpm)___ 621(@300wpm)
“Aurora?” Through the window, a voice called out from downstairs.
I knew who it was and got up. “Rhodes?” I replied before taking the steps as fast as I could in my socked feet.
“It’s me,” he said just as I reached the bottom, flipping the lock and pulling the door wide.
I gave him the friendliest smile I could muster. “Hey.”
I knew he’d just gotten home not too long ago; I’d heard his truck. He’d already changed out of his uniform, settling for dark jeans and a formfitting T-shirt that I would have eyeballed him in if I could have done it sneakily. “Getting a little late to be leaving, isn’t it?” he asked.
It took me a second to blink at what he was asking. “Oh, we’re not going after all.”
“You’re leaving tomorrow?”
“No, not this weekend. Clara’s brother had an emergency, and he couldn’t come down to stay with their dad, and his usual caretaker had a funeral,” I explained, watching him watching me. His eyes moved over my face as I talked, like he was measuring my words.
His smooth right cheek flexed.
“Another time, I guess,” I told him. “What are you two doing this weekend?”
His “Nothing” took a moment to come out of his mouth. “Johnny picked up Am, and they’re doing something tonight.” His cheek twitched again. “I saw your light on and wanted to make sure you were all right since you said you were leaving right after work.”
“Oh. Yeah. No, I’m here, and I’m good. Clara and I are going to try and do that hike you saved me on, when half my skin ate gravel.”
He nodded as he narrowed his eyes a little.
I thought about it. “I was thinking about making a pizza right now. Do you want half?”
“Half?” he asked slowly.
“I can make you your own if you want . . .” I trailed off. “I’m hungry actually. I can eat a whole one, but I have two.”
For some reason, that made the corners of his mouth tighten.
“What?”
“Nothing. I wouldn’t be able to picture you eating a whole pizza if I hadn’t seen you nearly do it on Am’s birthday.”
I almost winced at the memory of the shit show that day had been. I’d never asked what happened with the mouse, and I wasn’t going to ask now. I shrugged and smiled. “I had a big salad for lunch. It balances out, I think.”
“Make two pizzas. I’ll get you another one next time I go to the store,” he said after a moment of looking at my face again.
Did he have to be so handsome?
“Yeah?” I asked, sounding way too excited.
He nodded soberly, but there was still something in his eyes that seemed very, very thoughtful. “What do you think? Thirty minutes?”
“Maybe? By the time I heat up the oven and both pizzas cook, closer to forty?”
Rhodes took a step back. “I’ll be back then.”
“Okay,” I said as he took another step. I waited to close the door until he’d turned and jogged back to his house.
Why he jogged back, I had no idea, but okay. Maybe he had to take a poop. Or he hadn’t exercised. Amos had confirmed one day that his dad got up early to go to the twenty-four-hour gym in town a few days a week. Sometimes he did push-ups at home. He’d volunteered the information randomly, but I hadn’t complained.
Back upstairs, I preheated the oven and wondered if he was planning on eating with me or taking the pizza back to his house.
I wondered for a second if he’d planned on going on a date tonight and that’s why he asked if I was sticking around, but no.
Unless he was planning on sharing his pizza . . .
No, that didn’t seem like him either.
Well, whatever, if he wanted to eat with me, awesome. If he didn’t, I could watch a movie. I had a new book. I could call Yuki to check on her. Or my aunt.
But forty-five minutes later, Rhodes still hadn’t come back and the pizzas were overcooking in the cooling oven.
I guess I could just cut it up, put it on a plate, and take it over?
I had just started cutting up one of them with a steak knife, because I didn’t have a pizza cutter, when another knock came from the door, and before I could answer, it creaked open and I heard, “Angel?”
Lord, I didn’t understand this man and how he sometimes screwed up my name.
“Yes?”
“Pizzas done?”
“Yeah! Want me to bring yours down?” I yelled.
“Bring them both.”
He wanted to eat together? “Okay!” I hollered back.
The door closed, and I finished slicing up both supreme masterpieces, stacking them onto plates, and wrapping them with some of the beeswax covers that Yuki had sent randomly to my PO box. Then I went down.
I managed about two steps outside before I stopped.