Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 143382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
Yep.
Every.
Single.
One.
His ass was resting on the fender of my black convertible Mini, his long legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed, his arms were also crossed on his chest.
He’d been there a while.
Waiting for me.
Okay, one could say, until I met Eric, I hadn’t been into older guys.
And he wasn’t older, as such.
It was just that he belonged to the first generation of the Hot Bunch guys of NI&S (the younger generation, Raye had dubbed the Hottie Squad so we could tell them apart, something that was necessary due to their overall concentrated level of hotness, which was so high, it was immeasurable, so we had to pry them apart somehow).
The first generation were all married (except Eric) and had wives and children (except Eric).
But the minute I clapped eyes on him, I was into him.
That was because he was mega hot.
It was also about other things, which I wasn’t in the place to contemplate fully at that moment, seeing as it was now closer to two in the morning, and he had no reason to be leaning against my car at that time—or ever.
Yet there he was.
I restarted walking toward him, and when I arrived, I quipped, “Of all the gin joints.”
“I’m not finding anything funny, Jessie,” he replied.
Hmm.
One could say we hadn’t had very many deep conversations (as in…none).
But I’d been around him somewhat frequently, seeing as Raye, one of my three besties, was not only hooked up, but shacked up with Cap. This meant they often came to The Surf Club to have lunch or grab a cup of joe. And The Surf Club was where Raye, my other two besties, Harlow and Luna, and I worked.
Obviously I’d heard his voice, which was normally deep and mellow, but it could get smooth, rich and warm as fudge when he said things like, “Thank you,” after I put one of Lucia’s (our chef) divine creations in front of him.
Now, it was still deep, though not at all mellow or smooth. Instead, rough and edgy.
In other words…pissed.
“Eric—”
He cut me off. “Have you lost your fuckin’ mind?”
“No, I—”
“Wrong,” he bit off. “You have. You’ve lost your fuckin’ mind.”
Now, hang on a second.
This guy worked with my friend’s boyfriend.
No, wait.
Cap was my friend too, so take that degree of separation out, he worked with my friend.
I waited on him a couple of times (right, that was a lie, I’d waited on him multiple times).
And I went out and had wings and beers while watching the Cardinals with that crew once, and he was there.
Other than that, and the mad crush I had on him from not-so-afar, this guy did not factor in my life.
“What I’m doing has nothing to do with you,” I told him.
“Wrong again,” he retorted.
I was losing patience.
No surprise, since I wasn’t the most patient being on the planet, or even in the top ninety-nine percent (and on my bad days, such as now, I occupied more of the lower point-three-percent bracket).
“How do you figure that?” I snapped.
“I take it you haven’t read the Rock Chick books either.”
The Rock Chick books were novels written about all his buds’ courtships (though, not his, obvs).
I know, weird.
But true.
They also apparently stood as warning signals to Raye, Luna, Harlow and me about our futures.
Which would normally lead one to diving right in.
I’d meant to, but what could I say?
I wasn’t a reader.
Then again, so far, none of the girls had read them.
Topping that, the one I wanted (the one I was shockingly currently with) didn’t want me.
I didn’t confirm I hadn’t read the books.
I didn’t say anything at all.
He hadn’t moved from his cool-scary-guy crossed ankles/arms lean against my car (and I hoped his fine ass didn’t put a dent in my fender—because he was tall and built, and muscle like his had to have some heft to it), so I mimicked him, without the crossed ankles and leaning parts.
Okay, so I just crossed my arms on my chest.
“We adopt one, we adopt all,” he stated. “Raye came into the family, now you’re all under our protection.”
“That’s sweet and all—”
He interrupted me.
Again.
“It’s not sweet. We’ve been through this shit before. It’s compulsory.”
Compulsory?
Screw that.
I didn’t need some hot guy thinking I was an obligatory pain in his ass.
“Consider yourself let off the hook when it comes to me,” I offered.
He shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way.”
Okay.
I’d had a tough night.
And tomorrow was going to be a tough day.
Jeff wasn’t there, or they were hiding him from me so I’d continue to bring water, hydration packets, food, clean syringes, bath wipes and the like. My mother was useless (per usual). My father was a piece of garbage (per usual). Therefore, no family Thanksgiving for me, and I loved turkey, and stuffing, and all that shit.
But more, because Mom and Dad were such wastes of space, it was on me to find Jeff.