Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“The audacity you have is beyond me!” I yell at him.
“It’s probably both. She’s really private,” Eliza says.
“Yeah, like no social media. It’s weird,” Louisa adds, but Dimitri’s gaze doesn’t leave mine.
“Which is it, Janie?”
Oh, it’s everything! I look over at him, and the phrase is right there. I want to say it so badly. I want him to know how mad I am, and I think those two words would do it perfectly. But I refrain. I press my lips together and then whip my gaze from his to my sisters. “It’s time to go.”
“Aw, Ja—”
I whip around, my eyes in slits, cutting Eliza’s words short.
“You call me Janie, and I will beat you with your own arm—the bloody end.”
“Feisty,” Dimitri mutters, and I snap my gaze to him.
“And you’ll be next,” I seethe, but I swear, his grin gets bigger, those dimples flashing as he nods.
“Promise?”
I withhold my scream of frustration and stomp out of the apartment, my bag and book in tow. I don’t even wait for my sisters, though they somehow catch up. I ignore them, not even speaking to them as we get in the car.
“Austen, he’s hot,” Eliza points out. “Like super-hot. It’s the mustache for me, and the way he says certain words. Did anyone else come at the way he said pussy? He rolled the hell out of it.”
“I would be on my back twenty-four seven around him,” Louisa says, shaking her head. “Just lying there, legs open and ready for whatever he wants.”
“Right? Same!” Eliza gushes.
And I don’t even have it in me to admit I sometimes want to do just that, but then Dimitri opens his damn mouth.
“I mean, good God, his voice is like dirty, rough sex, the kind that has your fingers turning white cause you’re holding on to the sheets so tightly,” Louisa breathes.
“And that body? Man, I just wanted to touch him. How do you live with him?”
I don’t answer either of them as I drive.
Eliza leans in. “Austen, I promise we won’t say anything.”
“For real, we won’t. And if it’s making you mad we’re talking about him, we’ll stop,” Louisa promises. “Or, at least, I’ll try. It’s hard—he’s really something.”
I don’t say a word as I try to ignore them, my body shaking. I can’t believe he was there. I can’t believe my sisters acted like that, and I sure as hell can’t believe he read my book. He will never let me live it down; I know he won’t. He’ll bring up stuff and make me blush just for fun.
Oh my, he is insufferable!
Silence fills the car, and I can feel the looks they give me and each other, but I don’t care. I have nothing to say, nor to explain. It is what it is, but I cannot believe that just happened.
Why me?
When we arrive at the rink, I get out, slamming the door and grabbing my stuff from the back. I feel them fall into step with me, but they don’t say anything. They know to let me be for a bit. I’m not as mad as I seem, just embarrassed. And I feel like the private thing I was enjoying is ruined and will be exploited by him. I know he’ll tease me ruthlessly, and if he thinks we’re gonna talk about the book, together, he’s been knocked into the boards too many times. Or maybe I’m being dramatic? I don’t know, but I do know it’s gonna be hard to face him during the tape meeting today.
“Can you please talk to us?” Eliza asks as we enter the arena.
“We won’t say anything about him,” Louisa says. “Promise.”
I exhale. “Fine.” But neither of them says anything. I look between them. “What? Yes, I live with him. Yes, he is dangerously gorgeous. And yes, he is a pain in my butt! It is what it is. And no, I have not made a move or slept with him or kissed him or anything. Nothing! I watch him play video games while I read. Nothing has happened, nor will it.” I draw in a deep breath, my cheeks burning. “And I am most definitely not talking about the book! With him or you two. Anything else?”
They glance at each other before they look back at me, both probably scared of my outburst. Slowly and cautiously, Eliza says, “So, you know he likes you, right?”
I gawk at her. “Are you crazy?”
Just as cautiously, Louisa adds, “For real, Austen. He was taking your clothes off with his eyes.”
“You two are crazy. He doesn’t like me. He likes to mess with me and tease me and drive me crazy with his arrogance!”
Louisa nods, moving her hand in a “come on” kind of motion. “Because he likes you. He’s attracted to you.”
I blink, looking between the two of them. “Did you knock your head too hard against a headboard or something?”