Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 87110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
A small part of me was happy that Channing had a second chance with the one girl he’d truly connected with. It felt like fate, him ending up in Boston and getting to rekindle things with her. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t extremely jealous. I’d probably always be envious of any woman who could be with Channing in that way.
My stomach was unsettled, but I did my best to offer sound advice despite my biased discomfort. “I don’t blame you for being cautious. Just take one day at a time.” I needed water. I got up and walked toward the kitchen while still talking to him. “Where did you go after the Common?”
He followed me. “You mean after we stopped talking about my awkward friend with the mutilated bag of underwear?”
Taking out a glass and filling it, I laughed. “Did I embarrass you?”
He leaned into the counter. “I’m just messing with you. We did laugh about it after you left, though. I told her a little about our friendship and history. Then, we left the Common and grabbed a bite to eat at Fuddruckers. After dinner, I walked her to the train. She hopped on the commuter rail. She lives in Waltham.”
“Did you kiss her?” I spit out.
“Once. Before she got on the train.”
My face felt flush at the thought of that, and I wondered if my jealousy was transparent. I hoped not. I just kept staring at him for a bit. “I see.”
That prompted him to ask, “Something else you want to ask?”
“When are you seeing her again?”
“I’m supposed to see her tomorrow night. But to be honest, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“You don’t completely trust her?”
“I’m not sure. But honestly, I don’t know if I want anything serious with anyone—even her. My frame of mind isn’t exactly the same as it was when I met her. Stuff has happened since then. I don’t know what I want anymore.”
I wondered what stuff he was referring to.
“Well, she’s really beautiful. I can see why you’re drawn to her.”
“She is.” He smiled, unable to deny that. “Any other questions?”
“No. That’ll be all for tonight.”
He leaned his back against the counter and crossed his arms. “So…any particular reason why you were stocking up on panties, Walnut?”
“Can’t let a good sale go to waste.”
He lifted his brow. “That’s it?”
My face felt hot. “Yeah.”
He was searching my eyes. “Okay…”
I swallowed, feeling very uncomfortable. I didn’t like lying to him, but telling him why I’d really purchased the underwear was not an option.
“Oh, check this out,” he said, taking out his phone. “We ran into Steven Tyler from Aerosmith downtown. He was just standing around talking to people, so we snapped a few photos.”
“That’s so cool!”
“I’m gonna go change,” he suddenly said before leaving me with his phone to peruse the photos.
In one of the shots, Emily and Channing were on each side of Steven Tyler. I couldn’t tell which one of them had the more gorgeous smile.
I sighed.
As I tried to zoom in, I accidentally hit something that brought me to an index of photo albums categorized by year. Randomly, I clicked on 2015.
Big mistake.
I came upon something I never should have seen: a series of dick pics.
OhmygodOhmygodOhmygod.
There in all of its glory was Channing’s beautiful cock, just as thick and magnificent as I might have, on occasion, imagined it to be. The crown was perfectly rounded and in perfect proportion to the shaft, his golden skin slightly veined yet smooth. And it was long. Really long and thick.
In the three photos, you could see the base of his tatted, carved V along with the thin line of hair forming a path down to his crotch.
Footsteps!
I freaked out as I heard him approach and accidentally dropped the phone onto the ground. He landed right in front of it, picking it up, and putting it in his pocket. “Whoa, be careful, butterfingers.”
Oh, no.
I froze because I didn’t know if it was going to open right up to the photo of his cock the next time he checked it. Had I somehow exited out? I didn’t think so.
“How about a late dinner?” he asked.
“Didn’t you already have something while you were out?”
“I’m still hungry. If I make something, will you eat?”
“Sure.”
He examined my face, seeming to notice that something was off. “You alright?”
“Yes,” I lied.
Unable to look at him for the time being, I went to the couch in the living room and prayed that I’d dodged a bullet while Channing cooked us something. I didn’t want to be in the kitchen if he happened to look down at his phone.
Several minutes later, he called out from the kitchen, “Food’s ready!”
When I took a seat at the table, I immediately noticed that his phone was now out and on the counter. That meant he’d likely checked it if he’d taken it out of his pocket. So, the damage was either done or had been averted.