Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
After dumping it back into the middle console, I wordlessly announce she’s not getting close to her phone unless she’s willing to get up in my business like my family’s gynecologist did when I went to him for birth control. I was fourteen, and he promised not to snitch if he didn’t have to wear gloves.
I never saw him again after I kneed him in the groin before racing out of his office while calling him a perverted old man. I doubt many of his patients knew what I was shouting—hardly any of them spoke English—but it felt good seeing the windows of his practice boarded up only three months later.
When Polina looks more interested in conducting a lobotomy than a pap smear, I say, “Those weren’t his exact words.” Her face grows hotter every second I delay reminding her that her boyfriend is a douche. “He said he’ll be here to pick you up at ten.”
She looks as confused as I was earlier while asking, “A.m.?”
I shouldn’t have downed a handful of shots during the commute. They make my laugh sound like a witch’s cackle. “Puh-lease. Like he’d let you off your leash for that long.”
I instantly hate myself for my bitchy comment. Polina has been nothing but supportive of me since I arrived at her boutique, seeking a cash-in-hand job.
“I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I get bitchy when I’m horny.”
Polina lets me off the hook by reminding me that my dating life sucks. “I thought you were dating that sergeant guy. What was his name?”
“Dud.”
With her focus no longer on her phone, I slip out of the gas guzzler. My heels click the sidewalk as loudly as my heart batters my ribs.
Yev is already here. His chin is hairier than I remember, and his frame bulkier, but there’s no mistaking the lust in his hooded gaze when he spots Polina clambering out behind me.
This could be an early call, but if you won’t admit your accomplishments, who will?
I’m a fucking genius.
I settle the crazy beat of my heart—I can’t help but get excited about meddling in people’s love lives since I’ll most likely be single for eternity—before acting as if my insides aren’t dancing to their own beat. “His name should be Dud. I swear I could draw a map to my clit, and he still wouldn’t know how to find it.” I almost bust out the moves on the outside as a conversation Polina and I had when she drank half a bottle of red pops a brilliant idea into my head. “And get this”—I couldn’t be called a drama queen if I didn’t pause to build the suspense—“he wanted me to crawl to him, on my hands and knees, like some kind of baby. It was so gross.”
Do grades go any lower than an F? Because I’ll be whatever that letter is after my performance. I’ve not been asked to crawl to a man yet, but when Polina let it slip months ago that it was one of her kinks, I developed my first woman crush.
Needing to lessen the worry on her face, I murmur, “Though I doubt I’d feel the same way if he’d known what he was doing when I reached his feet.” While recalling Mr. Dud, I sigh. “He thought I was wet for him.” My esophagus gets the workout of its life tonight. “I was covered with his spit. Even while kissing the lower lips, there is such a thing as too much tongue.” After looping my arm around Polina’s elbow, I drag her toward Yev before asking, “Have you ever?”
Polina doubles the length of her strides to keep up with me while asking, “Ever what?”
“Crawled to a guy.” I roll my eyes to emphasize the “duh” in my expression.
Her eyes bulge. “Um…”
Like a well-oiled machine, her reply comes from the exact man I was hoping would answer for her. “If she says no, she’s lying.”
Even with Polina’s shock making my heart squeal like a pig in mud, I can’t follow the direction of her head sling. I’m having my own Romeo and Juliet moment, but this time, it is minus my grandma nudging me with her elbow while mouthing for me to sniff the Adonis seated next to me.
We were in San Francisco doing what all tourists do, riding the trams. We were a couple of stops away from our hotel when a man I swear breezed off the set of a GQ photoshoot entered the cab. He was suave and sophisticated and had a face that would wet even the lunch lady’s panties.
Even though he had every woman's eye, my father was adamant he was gay. The hours he teased me about my instant fascination were the highlight of many family dinners.
Well, any that excluded my mother.
She quickly pointed out to my father that he was not on vacation, so he shouldn’t be having the fun he was. She is the killjoy of every party and has had me wishing on more than one occasion to discover I am adopted.