Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 155405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 777(@200wpm)___ 622(@250wpm)___ 518(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 777(@200wpm)___ 622(@250wpm)___ 518(@300wpm)
I break into a ridiculous grin. “I know, you gave me your number YESTERDAY. I’m surprised you didn’t die waiting.”
“It’s fortunate for both of us,” he replies. “What are you up to?”
I sigh, giving up on studying for the moment and hopping up on my bed so I can relax on it while I text him. “Not much. I just finished up a sort of club meeting with the best and worst girls at my school. Now I’m about to do some homework while I wait for my mom to bring me dinner.”
“Sounds fun.”
“Oh yeah. Too much fun. Should be illegal. What about you? What are you doing?”
“Thinking about you,” he says, with an added wink.
A stupid grin reclaims my lips. “Well, I certainly hope so. If you’re talking to me and thinking about somebody else, we may be on the wrong track.”
“Oh yeah? What track are you hoping we’re on?”
My eyes widen. That’s… aggressive. Or is it? Maybe not. Maybe I’m just so new to this that it seems that way.
My suspicion is confirmed when I search my brain for a response, and all I can come up with is, “A good one?”
I do not type that.
I do not type anything.
Too much time passes and I start to panic, realizing I’ve let an awkward amount of time pass after a question like that.
Perspiration gathers along my forehead. I drop the phone on the mattress and shake out my hands, trying more desperately to come up with something cogent to say.
The bubbles dance.
I hold my breath.
“You there?”
Smacking my palm against my face, I groan. I grab the phone and try to think, but my brain won’t work. Finally, I type out the only thing I can come up with.
The truth.
“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry, I didn’t mean to… disappear. I should warn you, I’m really new to this.”
“Texting?” he jokes.
“Yes. I’ve only had a phone for three days. Prior to this, I lived in an ocean cave with dolphins and a crab.”
“Makes sense. I thought I smelled the beach on you.”
I crack a smile. “No, but in all seriousness, the whole talking to a guy thing. I know that probably sounds lame, but I’ve literally never texted a guy before, so…”
“How old are you?” he messages back.
Oh boy.
He thinks it’s weird.
Of course he thinks it’s weird. It is weird.
“I’m 18,” I answer.
“And you’ve never dated?”
I can’t tell if he thinks that’s horrifically weird, or he’s just curious. Stupid toneless text.
Swallowing, I type back, “No, I haven’t.”
“Why? Never liked anyone?”
“I have, but… it’s kind of a long story.”
“I’ve got time.”
I smile faintly, but with very little humor. “I also think it probably isn’t the best idea to start off the first time we’ve ever texted by talking about another guy. Isn’t that a dating etiquette rule or something?”
“Maybe, but I tend to think you should only obey rules as long as they serve you.”
Of course he does.
I guess I have a type.
Another text comes through, one that is decidedly un-Landonlike.
“You can talk to me about anything you want.”
I stare at those words on the screen for longer than I should without responding. It’s hard to say exactly why they feel so reassuring. I guess because I believe them, and it’s nice to have someone I can confide in.
“It’s too messed up,” I finally text back. “I don’t want to bring you into it anymore than you already have been.”
“Is it about that guy you came to dinner with? Your new stepbrother?”
I cringe seeing that word on the screen and knowing it’s a reference to Landon. Licking my lips, I debate how much I want to share.
Then I glance at the time and realize it’s getting late. Mom will be here soon, and I really do have a lot of homework.
“Hey Javi, I’m really not trying to be evasive or anything, but I just realized how late it’s getting, and I still have a lot of homework to do…”
“No problem. We can talk more later.”
“Thanks for understanding.”
“Of course. Now go get that A so you can come back and talk to me.”
I grin at the screen and type back, “Yes, sir.”
He types back an ellipsis, then he says, “You wanna keep that up, or you wanna do your homework?”
I flush, chuckling to myself and trying to ignore the butterflies in my tummy. I guess I walked into that, but I didn’t expect risqué texts so soon.
“Homework!” I text back. “Talk to you later,” I add with a smiley, just so he knows I wasn’t put off by the joke.
“In case I don’t talk to you later, have sweet dreams.”
“You too.”
“Oh, I will.”
Sighing heavily, I sink back against my pillows and cradle my phone against my chest. I can hear my heartbeat, feel the lingering aftershocks of excitement moving through my veins.
I don’t know how this can possibly work with me living here, but for now, I’m not going to worry about it. For now, I’m just going to enjoy texting a great guy who seems to like me, and hope with all my heart that I’ll be able to keep Landon from ruining it.