Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
“It’s fine. Really.” I smiled. “What have you been up to lately?”
Jane talked and Lars studied his hands. Austin bought me a drink while Cleo and Tore whispered sweet nothings. It was wonderful how obviously into each other they were. I hadn’t seen my best friend smile that wide in a long time.
I turned when a man at the next table dropped his wallet. Jane retrieved it and they chatted. She laughed and flicked her hair and Lars frowned his heart out. Some people were addicted to attention, to the thrill of being wanted. It was harmless. Mostly. But Lars had made the choice to be with someone whose behavior hurt him and I really wanted to know why.
“Back in a minute,” Lars said, rising from the table.
I slipped out of my seat and followed without a word.
When we reached the gender-neutral bathroom door, he frowned at me in surprise and held it open. “After you.”
“Thanks.”
It was a nice clean rest room. Dark green tiles with copper sinks. I whirled around and crossed my arms.
Lars froze. “Something on your mind?”
“Why are you back with someone who makes you unhappy?”
His jaw shifted.
“Don’t get me wrong, I think Jane’s great,” I said. “She tells awesome stories and that Balenciaga purse she’s carrying is beyond words. But her flirting upsets you. It’s why you broke up with her in the first place. An issue that obviously hasn’t been resolved.”
“Susie...”
“Why do that to yourself, Lars?”
His gaze narrowed on me. “You know, you sound almost jealous.”
“And you sound defensive.” I took several steps closer. What I really wanted to do was reach out and shake him. But we never touched. Not on purpose and not if we could help it. “I see you sitting there, looking miserable, and I don’t get it. Can you just not be without a girlfriend? Is that it?”
“It’s none of your business.” He made a growly noise low in his throat. “This is for the best, okay?”
“Not if you’re unhappy.”
“Leave it alone.”
“No. You made me care about you. Now you can deal with the consequences.”
“Get out of my fucking face, Susie. I am not talking to you about this.”
“Fine,” I snapped.
He grunted.
“I can’t believe I wore a strapless bra for you.”
His brows rose and his mouth opened and I swept out of the room like a queen. Because I was just petty enough to enjoy getting the last word. So there. Though while the shock that filled his gaze had been enjoyable, I might try to show a little more maturity in future. Maybe not mention my underwear. Let’s add it to the list of shit I shouldn’t say. Oh, well. Lars had a talent for getting under my skin.
Back at the table, it soon became the second-worst night at a restaurant in my life. Lars and I ignored each other while everyone else had a great time. And we didn’t swap meals midway. I didn’t want to try his stupid sausage anyway.
* * *
The banging on my door came after a bellowed “Susie!”
I knew that voice. I did not hate that voice. Though I was pretty damn irritated with him for various reasons, including it being close to one in the morning. The idiot was lucky I’d been awake and reading. I unlocked the door and threw it open and there stood Lars. He was wearing gray sweatpants cut off into shorts and a pair of sneakers. His tee had been removed and tucked into the waistband and his bare chest glistened with sweat. And all the while, his thick shoulders were heaving as he sucked down some much-needed air.
I cocked my head. “Did you run all the way here?”
“Yes.”
“Do you need some water?”
“That’d be good,” he gasped. “But I have something to say to you first.”
“Okay. I’m listening. Though you might want to start with an apology for bellowing at me. Otherwise this is going to be a very short conversation.”
“I’m sorry I raised my voice. That was out of line.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you going to apologize for sticking your nose in my business even after I asked you to stop?” he asked.
“Can’t we call it an intervention?”
“No,” he said, voice flat and unfriendly.
“I’m sorry. I should have respected your boundaries. What did you come here to say?”
He scowled down at me and said with all due seriousness, “You cannot talk to me about your underwear.”
I pinned my lips shut.
“I mean it.”
“I can see that,” I said. “And you ran all that way just to tell me that.”
“Are you laughing at me?”
“No, sir. As it happens, I’d already come to the no-underwear rule all by myself.”
He blinked.
“I mean, the no-talking-about-underwear rule.” I clarified. I gave him my most pleasant smile. “Would you like some water now?”
“Yes, please.”
He followed me through to the kitchen, where I fetched him a glass of ice water. And the way his throat worked as he drained the glass. How thick his neck was. I don’t know—the whole man got to me. But staring is rude. The problem was, however, when I lowered my gaze the dick print on the front of his shorts caught my eye. Like the rest of him, it was sizable. And what the sight of it did to me was obscene. My toes curled, and my thighs squeezed together. It had been safe to see him half-naked at his BBQ—with other people present. But here alone in my kitchen...how dare he not manhandle me. This was outrageous.