Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
“It’s just so hard to concentrate,” he complained, and I found his hand and squeezed it. “Dom was so upset last night and that made me upset, too.”
“Yeah, it was pretty awful.”
Justin nodded. “He talked a bit when Tye and I carried him up to his room and stuffed him into bed. All this time, he thought it was his being away from home so much that doomed their marriage. But now Yvonne’s with another baseball player, so he can’t really think that anymore.”
“Poor guy.” I thought about how it had felt yesterday when he had his arm around me in the gazebo. Unlike when some men did that, his arm had felt light and comforting around my shoulders. He wasn’t one of those guys whose touch weighed you down. “But let’s focus on you. What would help you concentrate? A sandwich?”
Justin shook his head, looking defeated. “I don’t think even that would help—though that BLT you made yesterday was fantastic.”
“I’m glad.” I edged closer to him. “Maybe you can think of me as your study sandwich today.”
He gave me a sideways look. “You do look good enough to eat,” he said, but his heart wasn’t really in the flirting. It made me think of how he’d been in the pool when he’d seen me in this bikini. He’d come on strong, almost as if he was trying to deflect from something.
“When you were in school, did you do well on tests?”
“No,” he said, glumly, and I regretted asking the question.
“But you got your degree, right?”
“Yes, but how do we know that was for my brains? Jocks traditionally get a pretty easy ride through their classes. I got good grades, but I’m not sure I earned them.”
“How can you say that?” He was normally such a confident man.
He took a deep breath. “Maybe because I have dyslexia.”
I inhaled sharply. Now it all made sense—why he preferred to listen to the study guides rather than read them. Why he was a bit slower to answer questions than the others. And why he was so afraid he’d fail.
I patted his bare thigh under the water. “I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to share that with me.”
He nodded absently. “I don’t like thinking about it much myself, let alone sharing it, but you’re special, Naomi.” He paused, his deep brown eyes pensive. “Mimi.”
“What?”
“Can’t that be a nickname for Naomi?”
“I guess.” I’d actually never thought about it before.
“Mind if I call you that?”
“No.”
“Good.” He hugged me closer to his side.
Mimi. I liked that.
But there was something more important to talk about. “Can’t they give you accommodations?”
“What do you mean?”
“For your dyslexia. They should be able to give you extra time or something else for the test. Or an extra tutor or something when you’re taking classes. Didn’t they do that when you were an undergrad?”
“No,” Justin said, looking as if the idea had never occurred to him. “As I said, as long as I ran the bases, they were pretty content to give me good grades.”
“Maybe you would’ve earned those grades anyway.”
“Maybe.” He didn’t look convinced, though.
He looked so upset that I cupped his face in my hands, stroking my thumb along his lip.
He stilled as he stared into my eyes. When he spoke, his voice was husky. “Sometimes I think that all my problems would go away if I kissed you.”
Shivers of anticipation filled me. “I’d really like to test that theory.”
“Me too,” he said softly. And just like Dominic yesterday, his mouth descended toward mine. This time, our lips actually touched before he pulled away.
“What?” I gasped as he slid away from me.
“This isn’t right, and you know it.”
I was shocked into anger. “It felt pretty damn right to me.”
“Come on, you're better than that,” Justin said, sounding angry himself. “I know he’s a shithead, but we have to take Frank into consideration.”
I gasped as my body jolted. “He contacted you?” If so, that was the last straw. I knew he didn’t approve of me being down here, but to actually contact one of the guys… that was a big step over the line.
“No, but we’ve heard your end of the phone calls. We know what kind of man he is.”
“So?” Surprise still flitted through me, but I tried to muster a coherent argument. “It has nothing to do with us.”
“It’s not right,” Justin insisted. “You know he wouldn’t be okay with this.”
“Who cares what he thinks?” My voice sounded disappointed, even to my own ears.
“We do. And you should, too. I know he’s a loser, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re with him. You live together. Nothing can happen until that changes.”
My mouth dropped open as I stared at Justin. It was almost as if he knew how stuck I felt. How it seemed like there was no way to get my life on track until I moved out of my father’s cluttered little apartment. But there was no way he could know that.