Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
“Here you go. Be careful, the plates are hot.”
The server sets our plates down in front of us and turns to Rick. “Do you want to cut into your steak to make sure it was cooked the way you like it?”
I look down at my plate. I ordered steak too, but our waitress is not worried about mine. Distracted, I cut into my food and ignore the byplay between Rick and the waitress. He flirts openly with her, but it doesn’t bother me. A part of me wonders if it’s bad form to try and fix them up when I bail on this date early. They talk and make eyes at each other, but I pretend not to notice. The more occupied he is with her, the longer I can sit here and think about how dumb Jason Hawk is. I literally stalked him to his house, and he just let me leave.
When the waitress walks away, Rick smiles at me. “How is it?”
“It’s good. How’s yours?”
He keeps smiling toward the waitress and then back at me to see if I’m watching him or not. I act like I don’t notice but I’m secretly pounding my fist in the air. I don’t feel bad now for when I tell him that it’s not going to work between the two of us. “Mine’s good,” he replies even though he hasn’t even taken a bite yet.
We eat in silence for a few minutes before Rick picks his phone up from the table. “Do you care if I step away and make a phone call? It’s work. I’ll be right back.”
I nod my head. “Sure, no problem.”
Instead of going outside, he disappears down the hall toward the bathrooms. I take a few more bites of my food and then lay my fork down. After taking a drink of my wine, I dig my phone out of my purse and grip it a little tighter when I see I have a text message from a number I don’t recognize.
“Hey Liv. It’s me, Jason. I got your number from Abby.”
I shouldn’t answer. I’m on a date, but when I look around, my date is nowhere to be found. I hit reply before I can talk myself out of it. “Hey.”
I hit send and hold my breath, wondering if he’s waiting for me to answer him or if he sent it and then completely forgot about me.
The text bubbles pop up, and my eyes are glued to my phone. “How was your date?”
I look around and still no Rick. “I’m still on it.”
His response is immediate. “He must be boring if you’re on your phone. Go out with me tomorrow night?”
Shoot, what does that even say about me that I’m making plans with one man while I’m on a date with another? “Can we talk about this later?”
“Go out with me tomorrow.”
The text is almost immediate, and there is no question mark this time. It’s more of a demand. My stomach does a little somersault and clenches. “Okay, tomorrow sounds good.”
“Can you come here? 6pm?”
I open my calendar app and look at my schedule tomorrow. My last appointment is at four. I may be pushing it, but I can make it happen. “Yes. Tomorrow at 6. I’ll be there.”
“Liv?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t let him touch you tonight.”
As soon as I read the text, I let out a breath with an oomph. I cross my legs because his text hits me right in my core. I don’t know if he wants me to respond to that, but I don’t have to wonder long.
“Liv.”
And then another text. “You got me?”
I shouldn’t agree. I should argue with him and tell him he doesn’t have any right to tell me who can touch me. But the truth is I don’t want any other man to touch me. When I think about it, the only one I want to have hands on me is the one I’m texting with. “Okay,” I answer.
But those four letters are not enough for him. He texts me back. “I need to hear you say it. Tell me what I want to hear, Liv.”
I don’t realize I’m smiling until I look around the room and a woman at the next table smiles back at me. I nod and then stare back at my phone. “I don’t like for people to tell me what to do, but I’m going to go along with this one. I won’t let him touch me.” There’s only one man I want to have their hands on me, but I don’t include that part. No, I’ve put it pretty plainly to him that I want him. I don’t need to tell him again.
I don’t wait for his response. I type out another text. “I’m putting my phone away. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
As soon as I hit send, I put my phone back in my purse. I look up just as Rick is coming down the hall, running his hand through his hair. When he sits down, I ignore the smeared lipstick on his face. I should be mad, but I’m not. Am I any better? I was just texting with another man and making plans to see him. No, Rick messing around with I’m assuming the waitress lessens my guilt a little bit, though. “I need to make it an early night tonight, Rick. You care if I head on home?”