Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
I bob my chin before my heart can talk me out of it.
I hate the way Jess’s voice squeaks when she asks, “Do you think it will ever go back to the way it was?”
But it has nothing on the tears that well in her eyes when I mutter, “I don’t know, Jessie. I hope so, but I honestly don’t know.”
Her next question knocks me for a six. “Do you think it is fair that you haven’t given us a chance to see if it can go back to the way it was?”
I shake my head, but I don’t know if Jess sees it. She’s too busy snapping her eyes to my too-curious cousin when she asks from her station by the door. “Is everything okay?”
Jess is quick to brush it away, but I don’t miss the faintest blob of wetness that dribbles down her cheek when she spins to face Octavia. “Yeah. We were just organizing a new weekly event. Thick Thighs Thursday.”
Octavia’s face lights up like a kid who isn’t scared shitless of Christmas. She still sees Christmas as the day the family gets together and celebrates. I see it as avoidance day. I did everything I could to avoid my grandfather, but he still found me every single year.
And he has haunted me every day since.
“That sounds like fun.” Octavia gleams. “Do you need me to do anything?”
After returning her wet eyes to mine, Jess replies, “Only give it a chance. That’s all you can do to know if something will work or not. Trial it.”
Although Octavia believes her words are for her, I know they’re not.
She’s begging for a chance to show her strengths, to fight for what she wants, and I’d be a prick if I didn’t bob my head, so that is what I do.
CHAPTER 33
JESS
Me: Snooze palooza is putting it nicely. This is worse than Daniel’s movie selection last month.
My grin gains me the eyes of a handful of the ick staff Seattle Socialites fill their human resources department with, but it is worth it when I spot Caleb’s reply.
Caleb: Find an excuse to sneak out early. Then we can have tacos and virgin margaritas for supper.
My fingers fly across the screen.
Me: I need tequila. Lots of it.
Despite our conversation not veering close to the one we had in my apartment months ago, and my heart snapping in half that day, things have been going well for us. I asked Caleb to give me a chance, and he has done exactly that for the last three months. We hang out, drink mocktails like they’re calorie-free, and laugh like a good belly rumble will make up for a lack of sexual contact in three years.
I should hate him for making me appear so pure Daniel is beginning to wonder if I’m saving myself for marriage, but for some reason, I don’t. I wasn’t lying when I said I’d rather be friends than him act like a ghost, and although it is hard acting ignorant to the obvious spark we have, I’ll never push him to disclose more about himself than he already has.
Sometimes a person’s secrets are the only thing keeping them alive.
Furthermore, what we have isn’t close to a relationship, but it has more spark and intensity than anything I’ve ever experienced. We flirt, tease each other, and have a good, balanced friendship.
It just appears as if Caleb can’t push past the fear that’s holding him back.
If I were honest, I’d admit the reason I haven’t pushed him the past three months is because I’m scared his confession might be too much for us to overcome, and that it could end our friendship entirely.
Since I’d rather be in a sexual rut for eternity than lose him again for years on end, I’ll order a replacement vibrator online and use my vivid imagination.
Caleb’s reply pops up just as Octavia enters the tent Mr. Pott’s had a coronary over when he learned how much it cost to hire for events. His employees have a prime view of the racetrack, but considering the price per head is more than most invitees earn per month, the extravagance is lost to them.
Caleb: Do you not recall the last time you drank tequila? You thought Scooter from the Muppets was sexy.
Me: Caleb…
It kills me waiting, but that’s all part of the game when it comes to Caleb, isn’t it?
Caleb: Yes, Jessie.
I regret my smile when it sees Mr. Kell heading my way, but it can’t be helped. I love my banter with Caleb, and not even an unwanted glance at my legs will dampen the eagerness of my reply.
Me: You’re an ass.
Caleb’s reply pops up as Mr. Kell scoops a champagne glass off a waiter’s tray and thrusts it into my spare hand.
Caleb: Never denied it, Jessie.
I lose the chance to reply when Mr. Kell purrs out, “Jessmina, you look as ravishing outside of your work clothes as I’ve imagined.” When he nudges his head to the glass of wine, encouraging me to drink it, I make a mental note to not touch a single beverage he offers me from here on out. He’s either hoping I’m a lightweight, or he paid the waiter to spike all his prospective conquests’ drinks. “I doubt it tastes as sweet as you, but beggars can’t be choosers.”