Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
I do have a black, cropped jacket – but you know Jenna’s ridiculous rules about covering up “the sexy”:
Only in case of emergency.
Emergency = Temperatures that are freezing.
Freezing = Thirty degrees or below.
This outfit is smokin’ and classy at the same time – very fashion forward and not really… me. However, I can see by the look on Neve’s face that he’s appreciating the view and the effort. I flip my artfully tussled wavy hair over my shoulder and sit, hanging Molly’s borrowed purse on the back of my chair and folding the linen napkin across my lap.
“Wowza. Who knew a woman could look so damn sexy with none of her cash and prizes showing,” my date says with a grin.
“Oh brother…” I say with a laugh, quickly taking a sip of the water glass already at my place setting.
“I’m actually really surprised you agreed to come on this date with me.”
I cock my head to the side, already knowing the answer. “How is that?”
Neve shrugs, picking up his knife and tapping it on the table impatiently. “You know.”
“Please, spell it out for me.”
“Fine. I’ll be direct, since you’re obviously going to make me say it. Molly called me.” His bright hooded eyes intently assess me from across the table, and I force myself not to squirm in my seat.
Damn he’s good looking.
It’s actually kind of depressing that he does nothing for my libido.
Instead of squirming I stare at him, eyes bugging out of my head. If I had been chewing food, I would have probably spit it out at him. “Molly called you? Why?”
The waitress comes before Neve can respond, setting menus on our charger plates, taking our drink orders (glass of Moscato for me, thanks), and regurgitating the Chef’s Specials (I don’t know about you, but despite the fact that I’ve completely lost my appetite, gorgonzola crusted Filet Mignon with red potatoes and asparagus sounds divine). We wait patiently for her to finish and walk off before we return to staring each other down – both for different reasons.
I’m the first to break the silence and fold my hands in my lap. “So… let me guess: this isn’t really a date.” It’s not a question.
Neve has the decency to look guilty. “Please don’t get me wrong. I like you; I’m really attracted to you. But… Matthew cares for you more than I’ve ever seen him care about anyone and it would be really shitty for me to pursue you.”
I mull over this new piece of information while I chew on a slice of the sourdough bread the waitress kindly set on our table. “I don’t get it. If he’s so “into me” as you claim he is - then why hasn’t he said anything to me about it?”
“Are you serious? First of all – he’s a guy. Guys don’t talk about their feelings. Second – and most importantly - this is Matthew Wakefield we’re talking about here. Not some normal twenty-three year old kid. The guy has no idea how to be in a relationship.” Neve reaches into the basket of warm bread, ripping off a chunk from the loaf and cramming it into his mouth. “And that includes relationships with his friends. I mean, sometimes the dude is such a prick.” As he talks and chews, he spreads butter on another piece of bread with a knife. “I mean. I’m not going to put words into his mouth about how he feels about you, but yeah - you’re all he can think about. It’s driving him crazy. Hell, it’s driving us crazy - he’s been a real bitch since your fight.”
My eyes get real wide as I listen to Neve go on (and on) about Matthew; this is the most I’ve ever heard this guy talk. “Besides Cece - you think he’s an asshole now? He’s been a virtual pussy cat compared to how he was acting just a few short weeks ago.”
He stops (finally) and looks up at me as if he’s forgotten I’m sitting here. “Whatever did happen between the two of you, by the way?” There is no trace of a clue on his handsome face.
“Um… are you kidding me right now?” Neve stares back at me blankly and I almost slap my forehead. “Oh jeez, no one told you?”
“Trust me, I’m always the last one -” he stops talking abruptly as the waitress walks up to set down our drinks and take our dinner order. Neve and I both order steak, medium rare (sorry to all you vegans out there). When she walks off he continues. “As I was saying… I’m always the last one to know stuff. And it’s not like Matt’s gonna tell me anything.” Neve eyeballs me with a raised brow. “Why? What did he do?”
I roll my eyes and sigh, loudly. “It’s not what he did, it’s what he said… so out of line.” I take a sip of wine. “Are you ready for this one? Get comfortable: it’s a doozy…”