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)
“That was thoughtful,” I say, not meaning to. “Thank you.”
When his face flushes, he says, “No problem. I’m going to jump in the shower. Hopefully there’s hot water.”
“Probably not,” I admit as I head to get the food, his grumbles following me. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I smelled the fresh bread. I am at the bar, stuffing my face, when he comes out not five minutes later.
“No hot water whatsoever. I had to wash like someone was going to touch my butthole.”
I choke on the Coke I’m drinking. “How does someone wash like that?”
“Quick and efficient, butthole tight.”
I snort. “You’re insane.”
He just grins as he unwraps his sandwich. He takes a bite, and around his chewing, he says, “I didn’t see you all day.”
We usually see each other throughout the day. I like watching him play, and I think he is proving Shelli wrong. He’s playing good hockey in my eyes, but then, I am still learning. “Yeah, meetings galore today. I think we might be hiring Lucas Brooks as our coach.”
His eyes widen as he nods appreciatively. “Wow, good choice. He’s the man.”
“I liked him a lot,” I add. “I was wondering why I was invited to his daughter’s wedding. I didn’t even know she was marrying Wes.”
Dimitri chuckles. “Yeah. Stella is awesome, and Wes is a good dude. So, you’ll be there?”
“I will,” I say, looking up at him. “Are you going?”
“I am. I have the rehearsal dinner tomorrow that everyone goes to even if you’re not in the wedding. It’ll be over the top, I’m sure, with drama galore. I’ll probably be drunk in the corner most of the night.”
“Why?”
“The OG Assassins family is a lot.”
“It is?”
“Oh yeah. Everyone is marrying everyone—or sleeping with them and making things messy. Everyone is loud and obnoxious, myself included.”
“That goes without saying.”
He grins. “Yeah. I love my family, but man, these things can be a lot.”
“I’m sure it will be fun.”
“Drinking in the corner will be fun, and then at the wedding, I’ll bother you.”
I make a face. “Maybe I’ll skip.”
He snorts.
“I didn’t know you drank alcohol.”
A smile plays on his lips. “I do on occasion. Do you not?”
I snort. “No, never. I grew up very sheltered.”
“Oh, did your fairy mom and dung bug dad not drink?”
I snort; I’m surprised he remembered I said that.
And then he pauses. “I’m sorry. I forgot they weren’t in your life.”
I wave him off. “My dad died years ago, and I have no contact with my mom. You’re fine. I’m better off without them, I swear,” I say on an exhale. “But no, growing up, drinking wasn’t a thing. No one did it in my family.”
“Wow. I don’t think there has been a moment in my life when my mom hadn’t had a glass of wine in her hand. I was hard to raise,” he adds, and I smile.
“I’m sure that’s putting it lightly. Your mother must be a saint.”
He grins, and I look down at my sub to stop the ache in my chest.
“We should go drinking.”
I make a face before I glance back up at him. “What? Why?”
“It’d be fun. I’ll get you trashed, and you’ll never drink again.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “That doesn’t even sound like fun.”
“You’d be surprised. I turn into a pretty badass dancer when I’m drunk.”
“Oh my,” I laugh when he starts gyrating his hips. Not only does he look ridiculous, but man, those hips are a lot. And very distracting. “I don’t even know how to dance, so all that would be pointless for me. I’ll just stay home and read my book.”
He makes a face as if he doesn’t believe me. “You don’t know how to dance?”
“No,” I tell him, meeting his gaze. “Sheltered life. I read the bible forty-four times for fun, and I can make my own bread. Sheltered.”
He grimaces. “Did you have a TV?”
“No,” I laugh. “It was a lot like the Amish lifestyle, but we weren’t Amish. It wasn’t their practices. It was whatever my father wanted.”
“So, you’re breaking Amish?” I make a face, and he laughs. “It’s a TV show.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, when they get their sabbatical, they move to New York and go buck wild.”
Sounds like my sisters. “No, not that. I just left and started my own life.”
He eyes me. “Of sitting and reading all night? Which, by the way, you’re a slow-ass reader.”
My face burns since that means he’s noticed that I haven’t finished my book. “Excuse you. I’ve been tired.”
“I guess,” he says, shaking his head. “I have a lot of questions.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, but I’m pretty sure Superior Janie will think they’re inappropriate. But Regular Janie probably wouldn’t think so.”
“And we were getting along so well,” I sigh as I get up, and he laughs.
“I’ll get you drunk and ask. Maybe you’ll drop the superior act.”