Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
“Well, thank you for looking out for me.”
“That’s what friends are for.”
When we got to the diner, Lacy parked, and we raced inside. The smell of maple syrup and butter filled the air as we made our way over to one of the tables in the back. We placed our orders, then waited as the waitress brought over our drinks. Once she’d gone back to the kitchen, Lacy leaned towards me and asked, “So, what about the guy from your class? You never told me why you cut the date short.”
“He ended up being a total douchebag. He said some pretty nasty stuff about the brothers, and I just couldn’t stand to sit there and listen to it.”
“I don’t blame you there. There’s nothing worse than suffering through a bad date.” She chuckled as she asked, “Did I ever tell you about the time I went out with a so-called ‘artist’?”
“No, I don’t believe I’ve ever heard about him.”
“Really? I can’t believe I never told you. He was awful.” She looked mortified as she told me, “He took me to this really nice restaurant, and then for some asinine reason, he thought it was acceptable to paint a grand ‘masterpiece’ right there on the wall! And to make matters worse, it was awful. It looked like a three-year-old had thrown finger paints on the wall.”
“That’s truly awful, Lacy. I don’t know what I would’ve done.”
“I did the only thing I could. I pretended like I had no idea who he was and bolted. The idiot didn’t even know I’d left.”
“That’s awful.” I was still giggling when the waitress brought over our food. “As bad as that was, I think I have you beat. I went out with a guy who thought it was okay to talk about his ex the entire night. He wouldn’t stop going on and on about how much he missed her and how she was the best thing that ever happened to him. I wanted to crawl under the table.”
We both burst out laughing and continued to eat our pancakes. We spent the rest of the meal talking about other crazy dates we’d been on, and all in all, it was just what I needed. As soon as we got back to the clubhouse, I went to my room and got into bed, then spent the next couple of hours sleeping like a baby.
When I woke up, my bad mood had lifted, and I was feeling excited about my date with Wyatt. I took another shower and changed into something more appropriate for a date. It was a bit chilly out, so I decided to wear a sweater with jeans and boots. I put on a little makeup, and I was about to straighten my hair when there was a knock at my door. “Just a minute!”
I didn’t want to hold him up, so I grabbed one of my clips and pulled my hair up into a messy twist. I gave myself one last quick look in the mirror, then rushed over to answer the door. When I opened it, I found Wyatt standing in the hall. Like the night before, he wasn’t wearing his cut or biker boots. He was simply wearing jeans with a white t-shirt and an old letterman’s jacket, and he looked so damn hot.
I couldn’t imagine him looking more handsome until he gave me one of his lopsided grins and said, “I’m a little early.”
“That’s okay. I was ready.” I reached for my purse and asked, “So, where are we going?”
“I thought we could go back to my place and order a couple of pizzas. Maybe watch the game or a movie?”
“Sounds great to me.”
I grabbed my coat and followed him out to his truck. He opened my door and waited as I got inside. As soon as I was settled, he leaned down and lowered his mouth to mine, kissing me briefly. “You look beautiful tonight.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
He looked at me for a moment, then without saying anything more, he closed the door and walked over to his side of the truck. Once he was inside next to me, he started the truck, and we were on our way to his place. Neither of us spoke, but it wasn’t an awkward silence.
That’s how it was with Wyatt. There was no pressure to speak or try to impress. He didn’t need to fill the void with nonsense, and I liked that about him.
When we got to his house, Wyatt led me inside and offered me a drink. “You want wine or a beer? I’ve got tea and soda, too.”
“A beer would be good.”
“You got it.” He walked over to the fridge and pulled out two Ultra’s, then offered one to me. “What kind of pizza would you like?”
Before I could answer, there was a knock on the door. Wyatt looked surprised as he grumbled, “What the hell?”