Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
I wait until he disappears out the door before packing up my laptop. Then I find myself waiting just a bit longer, terrified of walking out that door in case I was somehow seen over the past hour.
This is stupid. I can’t be afraid of walking around campus. I doubt if he saw me, he’d be bold enough to try anything in such a public setting.
I let out a deep breath and try to remember where I lost my balls. I throw my bag over my shoulder and join the rest of the students making their way down the cramped stairs.
As I poke my head out the door, I find myself quickly glancing around. The second I deem the area safe, I finally make my break for it. All I want is to get in my car and haul ass before locking myself in the safety of my home.
Ten minutes later, I pull myself out of my car and barge my way through the front door of my home. I stand in the doorway, gawking at Brooke on the floor of the living room. All the furniture has been pushed to the edges of the room while Brooke positions herself in the center of the room with her ass up in the air and a beginner’s yoga tutorial playing on the television screen.
“What the hell are you doing?” I laugh, loving how just one ridiculous thing from my best friend somehow manages to help me forget the bullshit day I’ve been having.
“Go get dressed. You should try this shit. It’s so fucking hard,” she says in what I think is supposed to be a downward facing dog, yet it looks more like a downward facing pig.
Brooke looks at me from her position on the floor and I find myself shrugging before dumping my bag at the door. “Fuck it,” I laugh, skipping over to her and dropping down to the ground, accidentally bumping into her on the way down and making her fall out of her position.
Brooke shuffles down on her yoga mat and shares with me before instructing me on what to do. I get into the first position before collapsing back to the ground and wriggling out of my jeans. I mean, I’m all for woman power and that bullshit. We can do anything we put our minds to, but yoga in skinny jeans is simply not going to happen.
We get halfway through the tutorial before Brooke decides she wants to try the advanced stuff. You know, all the handstand crap which looks awesome, but let’s be real, it’s way out of our league. I mean, I’m still kind of struggling with the whole downward facing dog thing.
Twenty minutes later, my head is aching, but I’m really digging this meditation, relaxation thing going on at the end. Brooke and I lay with our heads together in the center of the room and our bodies stretched out across the floor. “That was fun,” she laughs.
“Yeah,” I agree. “I really needed that. It’s been such a shit day.”
“Really?” she grunts. “What’s going on? Did Nate get his knickers in a twist when you forgot to remind him that he’s your number one, special guy?”
“Shut up,” I groan, rolling over and propping myself up on my elbow so I can look at her. “It’s just been shitty, is all,” I say, deciding to skip over the whole Josh thing. I mean, all that’s going to do is worry her, and then I’m going to have to put up with her demanding that I tell Nate about it over and over again until she eventually does it for me, which naturally, will end up with Nate having the shits with me. I mean, there’s no win for me here. “I’m ready to climb into bed and call it a day.”
“It’s like, three o’clock in the afternoon,” Brooke snorts.
“I know,” I laugh. “But after you forced a whole bottle of wine down my throat last night, I’m sort of feeling like a little old lady with a killer hangover.”
Brooke grins as she pushes up and crosses her legs. She leans back against the couch and shrugs as though she doesn’t have a care in the world. “Not my fault you get hangovers like a little bitch.”
I roll my eyes and watch as she grabs her phone and starts texting, and if I know my Brookey Chookey, it would be a dirty message to Lukas. “Brooke,” I say after a beat. “It’s time to come clean.”
Her eyes don’t move from the screen. “Honey, I do all sorts of shit. Which thing do I specifically need to come clean about?”
“Maxen.”
Her eyes widen before flicking up to mine and widening just that bit more. She sucks in a breath. “What are you talking about?”
“Brooke,” I say, low and forgiving. “Something happened. I could see it in the way you were acting around each other, and besides, he couldn’t stop watching you. It was kind of creepy.”