Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 100060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Shayna sits down beside me on the couch. “I’m going to riot unless you give me more.”
“Figured that.” I study her for a moment, wondering what it would be like to come home and tell her about my day. Listen to a funny story about hers. Have plans to hang out. It would be great, wouldn’t it? I’d have that axe-drop feeling the whole time. Still, maybe I could test the waters? After all, I didn’t spend last night alone and company didn’t kill me. Yet. “Tell me something about yourself first.”
She squints an eye. “My dream is to visit the tulip fields in Amsterdam.”
“Okay.” My pulse beats wonkily. “And you work for a non-profit downtown…”
“Uh-huh. We provide counseling services to young mothers.” I notice that her eyes stray to something across the room. It’s the newspaper I saw downstairs. On top of a fresh stack at the bodega. “Although if the current mayor doesn’t get reelected, I’m not sure we’ll keep our funding. He’s been a big supporter, but…” She shrugs, looking half dejected, half resigned. “Obviously someone powerful wants him out.”
“Yeah,” I eke out, trying not to show how fast my blood is pumping.
This is the first time the deputy mayor’s mole status becomes more than a story.
His actions are going to affect people. Shayna. The people she helps.
My roommate is clearly starting to find my sudden silence odd, so I reach for a distraction. “What about something more personal?”
It takes her several moments to think. “I lost my virginity on the Staten Island ferry.”
“Oh wow.” I do a double take. “That’s a good one.”
She laughs, appearing somewhat distant for a handful of seconds. “It might be, if that dude wasn’t the very reason I’m in therapy.”
“Woof.” I reach out to squeeze her hand, but get nervous and draw it back before making contact. “I’m sorry, Shayna.”
“Thanks.” She nudges my knee. “Your turn. Who caused this walk of fame?”
That gets a smile out of me. “Instead of walk of shame?”
“Uh-huh.”
I worry the hem of my dress. “If that’s your attitude toward one-night stands, maybe you won’t be too judgmental about the fact that I…I was with three men.” Her jaw drops and I rush to continue. “It’s a whole bizarre story. I got trapped on the Roosevelt Island tram with them and it’s hard to describe, but there’s this connection. None of us have ever done anything like this, except Tobias. He’s an adult film star—”
“Tobias Atwater?” she breathes.
“Oh my God.” I slap my hands over my face. “You know of him.”
“Know of him? I’ve done unspeakable things to myself while watching his films.” She stares down at the carpet, as if reminiscing about those things, before her gaze shoots back to mine. “You’re sleeping with that man?”
“Well…” I hedge. “Not yet. Probably not ever. He’s complicated. They’re all complicated. This whole thing is…thorny. That’s why I’m going to put the brakes on. I mean, I like them all. For different reasons. Where could this kind of situation possibly lead?”
“Nowhere but a mess.”
“Exactly,” I say, strangely feeling a little disloyal.
“It would be fun getting there, though,” Shayna sighs.
“The road to hell is paved with gold.”
We both sit there quietly for a minute, staring into space. Shayna breaks the silence when she says, “Yup. I’d turn straight down that road.”
Both of us break into laughter. It’s surprisingly nice to laugh with someone else. Come to think of it, this is the second time in twenty-four hours I’ve laughed with other people. But instead of spreading joy inside of me, I have to tamp down on the need to excuse myself and hide inside my room.
Thankfully, the doorbell ringing saves me from having to make a decision.
Shayna raises an eyebrow at the door. “No one delivers flowers this early.”
“No…and definitely not on a Sunday.” I stand and cross the apartment warily, hitting the speak button. “Hello?”
A crackle of static. “It’s Banks. And the other two.”
My stomach slingshots up into my throat, tingles spreading down to my fingertips.
“Is that them?” Shayna squeaks, standing directly behind me now.
“Yes,” I reply, trying to sound normal and failing. “That was Banks speaking.” I press a hand to my stomach to still the butterflies. “He…he coaches rugby—”
“Hold on. Hold on.” Shayna doesn’t appear to be breathing. “Which team?”
“Uh…” I search my brain and come up blank. “The Flame or something?”
Shayna storms to the other side of the apartment, hands on top of her head. “The Flare, you mean? No. You are lying. I got dragged to a game last year by one of my friends. He is a contender, Elise. All ruthless and sexy, prowling the sidelines. Did you at least sleep with him?”
“Oh yeah,” I say on an exhale. “Affirmative.”
“Yeah, I bet he was firm.”
The buzzer drowns out my snort. I hit talk again. “Keep your pants on.”