Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 105306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
“It’s going to snow. How far do you have to walk?”
I know for a fact it is NOT supposed to snow, but still, my body shivers again at the words.
I don’t answer, only stand here debating my options. Yes, I’m pissed off and angry, and yes, I never want to see this guy’s face again as long as I live—Diego’s either.
On the other hand, I’ve never been a glutton for punishment or being so stubborn I can’t see past the nose on my face.
“Fine. You can drive me home. I deserve it.” My chin tips up indignantly.
I know my worth.
I did not deserve to have some guy break up with me by proxy in the freezing cold, to get completely caught off guard by some dickhead who thinks his shit doesn’t stink.
I follow Dallas to a big black pickup truck that’s parked at the end of the block, its taillights flashing as we get closer, doors unlocking with a telltale sound.
“Need help climbin’ up?” he asks from behind me, hovering.
I want to swat him away—the last thing I want is him touching me.
“No.” Don’t touch me.
I don’t care if I am accepting his hospitality. I don’t want him helping me. He’s done enough to ruin my afternoon already.
My fingers are itching to pull out my phone and call Winnie, but I don’t want to take my eyes off this guy for one second. I’m also tempted to send Diego a message to find out if this is all legitimate, but…
The facts are the facts.
He canceled our date.
Barely touches me.
Hasn’t made any effort.
Part of me stings from the rejection. The other part of me knew all along it wasn’t going to work and we were wasting each other’s time.
And I was right.
“Is he seeing someone else?”
Dallas’s hands are on the wheel and he’s pulling out of his spot. “Who?”
I roll my eyes. Follow along. “Diego.”
“If you’re askin’ if he was cheating on you, the answer is no.”
“How do you know?”
He shrugs. “I don’t.”
That tells me nothing. “You’re operating on a hunch. Got it.”
Staring out the window, I eventually remember that this guy has no idea where I live and I have to give him directions, I tell him to go straight when he gets to the railroad tracks.
“What were you doing in the theater?”
“You little creep.” He laughs instead of giving me a direct answer. “Were you watchin’ me?”
“No.” I roll my eyes. As if. “My coworker was. Get over yourself.”
“Trust me, I’m not under myself.”
I side-eye him, unamused by his attempts at joking, unamused by his deep, teasing voice.
Watching the road ahead of us, I find myself asking, “On what planet is it a good idea to break up with someone else’s girlfriend?”
“What’s the big deal?”
Is he joking right now? “You have no idea what kind of person I am or how into him I am. That could have gone horribly wrong.”
“Pfft.” He scoffs. “Like how?”
“I don’t know. What if I’d screamed at you or started crying? Then what?”
“But you didn’t.”
“But what if I had?”
“But you didn’t.”
Oh my God. Does he not know how this conversation is supposed to go? People are unpredictable. WOMEN are unpredictable. Does he not know anything about anything?!
Ugh!
“I think you’re focusing on the wrong problem here. The fact that you would date a guy who would pay someone to dump you…” His voice trails off.
“Excuse me?” Seems to be my big comeback tonight. The audacity of this guy!
“Now that I’ve met you, the two of you had no business dating.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Diego might be a giant man-child, but he’s a major pussy.”
My mouth falls open. “He’s a nice guy.”
Was. Is.
“His balls still haven’t dropped.”
“That is none of your business.”
“It’s none of my business that his balls haven’t dropped?” He laughs, and I look ahead at the road to make sure we haven’t passed my turn.
“I meant…” My head shakes. “I meant he’s a nice guy. That doesn’t make him a pussy.”
“Says the girl who just got dumped by a stranger.”
“Can you please stop saying that?”
“Why? It’s the truth.”
“That doesn’t mean I need you to keep repeating it. Jesus.” This guy has a lot to learn. “You can’t just say whatever pops into that brain of yours.”
“Thanks for the input, but I’ll be fine.”
I settle into the seat, relaxing my shoulders. “I’d bet any amount of money you’ve never had a serious girlfriend.”
Dallas Colter snorts. “No shit. Why would I want one? See what it leads to?”
“Wait—you’ve seriously never had a girlfriend?” How is that possible? He doesn’t exactly look like a troll that lives under a bridge, though I can’t really tell what he looks like under the knit cap, the thick coat, and the jogging pants. The outfit isn’t doing him any favors.
“No, I’ve seriously never had a girlfriend. Why does anyone care about that?”