Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Now, I’m not so sure…
The worst part is that I can’t even talk to my best friend about my feelings, and the lie of omission has me feeling like a jerk. I still haven’t told Ollie that his dad was the doctor I saw for my IUD check-up. To be fair, it’s not the most natural topic to bring up in everyday conversation.
Hey, bestie, can you pass the chips? By the way, your dad said my vagina’s good to go.
I squinch up my features and force myself not to think about the appointment. Instead, my traitorous brain calls to mind the image of him across the table from me at dinner. Seeing him in a different context reminded me that he really is a normal guy underneath it all.
But he’s not a normal guy. He’s my best friend’s father.
I bite my lip, inhaling deeply through my nose, then let it out slowly. I can’t do anything about my crush on Dr. Evan Ransom. But I can recommit to my plans for the summer, and perhaps do something to lift Ollie’s spirits at the same time.
“Why don’t we ask your dad if we can invite a few people over for a barbecue next weekend?”
“You mean for barbecue brunch?”
“I’m serious. We can invite a handful of people over for an early dinner and swimming.”
“I don’t know, Nat.” Ollie rubs the back of his neck. “Do you think we could even get this place ready in time?”
“We kind of have to, don’t we? You’re not going to have as much time for home-improvement projects once your internship starts, especially with the commute.” As for me, I’ll be working remotely for a law office in the city, transcribing client interviews and drafting declarations. I’ll be by myself at the lake house most weekday afternoons, and I won’t even pretend I’m not looking forward to the quiet.
“Look,” I say, “if we can show your dad that we’re willing to respect his wishes, he might let us invite more people over in the future.”
After a long pause, Ollie finally concedes with a shrug. “I guess it’s worth a shot. We can ask him about it tonight.”
“Tonight?” My pulse picks up at the thought of seeing Dr. Ransom again so soon after our awkward dinner. “I thought he wasn’t coming up until tomorrow.”
“Sometimes he takes Fridays off. He texted to let me know he’ll be bringing back pizza for dinner. He asked what kind of toppings you like. I told him we both like pepperoni.”
“Oh...” A soft, fluttery feeling rushes through me like a refreshing chill on a hot day. I have no reason to look forward to seeing Ollie’s dad again beyond an appreciation for yet another free meal. But I am looking forward to seeing him. It’s ridiculous and silly and inappropriate, but also warm and fuzzy and nice.
“That’s nice of him,” I say, trying to sound impartial about the fact that Dr. Ransom thought to ask about my food preferences.
I smile into my glass of sweet tea, feeling like a kid with a crush, nervous and giddy. But I know this can’t go any further than that, even if our conversations did seem to border on flirty at dinner. I have to keep these feelings to myself, for Ollie’s sake as much as my own.
Living under the same roof as your crush is one thing. Living under the same roof as your best friend’s attractive dad who knows what your vagina looks like is another thing entirely.
CHAPTER FOUR
EVAN
In the end, I agree to let Oliver and Natasha invite some friends over for a Saturday barbecue.
“Did you remember to pick up hot sauce?” Oliver yells.
I glance up from the novel I’m struggling to focus on, as Oliver and Natasha pad around the house making last-minute preparations for their gathering.
“It’s in the pantry,” Natasha calls back from the kitchen.
I’ve parked myself in the private office I’ve set up in the smallest of five bedrooms, resolved to keep myself scarce. Despite my initial reservations, I must admit I’m impressed by the work they’ve accomplished over the last two weeks.
My lake house has been completely transformed.
Gone is the moth-eaten furniture, stained carpets, and hideous wallpaper. Oliver and Natasha not only stripped the house down to its bare bones, but they also dressed it back up with fresh paint and floor polish. They even washed the damn ceilings. When I realized just how serious they were about making improvements, I gave them the go-ahead to shop for new furniture at my expense. I already knew Natasha was organized, but she proved instrumental in coordinating our schedules to ensure someone would always be at the house to greet the plumber, electrician, cable- and deliverymen when they showed up.
“I don’t see it,” Oliver says.
“Second shelf down, on the right.”
After a short pause, he replies, “Oh… Found it.”