Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 107077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
With a nod, I follow her into the other room. Lola peels off her jacket and hangs it on a coatrack near the backdoor before pointing to the table shoved up against the far wall beneath a window.
“Why don’t you get set up, and I’ll be right back?”
“Sure.” I watch as she disappears around the corner before pulling out a chair and dropping onto it. Then, I fire up my computer and grab my Comms book.
When there’s a babble of soft voices, I cock my head, trying to pick up the thread of conversation. I’m curious as to who else is here. A roommate? Maybe a boyfriend?
Hmm. I don’t like the idea of that.
A handful of minutes later, Lola returns. The first thing I notice is that she’s changed out of the jeans and T-shirt with the Taco Loco logo stamped across it and is now wearing black yoga pants that fit her like a glove and a cropped Western sweatshirt that shows off just a bit of toned midriff. Fuzzy purple socks cover her feet, and her hair is no longer pulled up into a ponytail. Instead, the silky mass floats around her shoulders, giving her a softer, more approachable look.
The second thing that hits me is the exhaustion that fills her eyes. I caught flashes of it earlier at the restaurant when she dropped onto the seat across from me. Is it more visible now because she’s at home and no longer needs to mask it? Or is it that the hour has grown late and she’s unable to keep it under wraps? Whatever the reason, guilt pricks me. This is obviously a girl who is burning the candle at both ends.
I clear my throat. “You know…if this isn’t a good time, we can get together tomorrow or the day after.”
She steps farther into the small space before pulling out the chair from the other side of the table and dragging it next to mine. “Isn’t the assignment due at midnight?” She glances at her phone. “That’s in two hours.”
I shrug. “It is, but I can finish it up on my own. The way you explained the other problems now makes more sense. If you could check over the questions I completed and tell me if I’m on the right track, I’ll be good.”
She ponders it for a second or two before shaking her head. “It’s fine. Let’s just knock it out right now.” Her voice turns softer as she glances away. “I owe you for taking care of my car this morning, and I don’t like feeling indebted to people.”
The way she says it along with the implication leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
“You’re not indebted,” I mutter. “It’s like I said before—this is an exchange of services. That’s it.”
Even though she’s exhausted, one corner of her mouth hitches. “Exactly. And I need to provide that service.”
When she settles next to me, I swing the computer toward her so she can read through the work I completed at the restaurant. As she focuses on the screen, I can’t help but stare. With her this up close and personal, it would be hard not to. Her eyes are so dark, they’re nearly black in their intensity, and the lashes framing them are just as inky. Her nose is slim and straight. My gaze falls to her lips. They look like a cupid’s bow with a deep pink color that seems more natural than makeup. Her skin is a deep golden hue that doesn’t strike me as sun kissed.
It’s only when her gaze locks on mine that I realize she’s been talking to me. It takes effort to shake away the mental fog that has descended and focus my attention on the words coming out of her mouth instead of the hue and poutiness of it.
“Sorry, guess I zoned out for a moment.”
When her brow furrows, I realize she probably thinks I’m a total dumbass. That thought has a dull heat creeping into my cheeks. Normally, I don’t give a shit what people think. I’ve spent my entire life being looked upon as the less intelligent Stevens brother. It’s a part I eventually accepted. If I couldn’t compete in the classroom, then I’d be the best on the field. But with Lola…
I don’t know...it bothers me that she probably thinks I don’t have two brain cells to rub together.
“I said that this looks pretty good.” She points out a few sentences that need to be reworked with more in-depth information.
As she re-explains a few key concepts, I make the necessary changes, and then we get to work on the last two problems. It takes about an hour but goes much faster now that I understand what I’m doing and how to write out the responses.
After I’m finished, she reads over the last question and makes a few tweaks. “I think that should be good.”