Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 147021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Tally hops off the couch and gives my bra a tentative poke.
“Knock! Knock! Checking in to see how things are going pre-coffee date!” My dad comes barging into the apartment.
Tally, Rix, and Dred freeze with their hands by my boobs.
“What the—” My dad turns around and heads for the door.
“Dad, you need to wait until I say it’s okay to come in.”
“I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t want to know. I’ll message later.” The door closes behind him.
Rix, Hemi, and Dred burst out laughing. Tally covers her mouth with her hand and giggles. Then her eyes widen. “Do you think he’ll tell my dad?”
“No. Definitely not. Also, he literally has no idea what he walked in on. And I’ve told him at least half a dozen times not to let himself in.”
“I’m glad we were having normal kitchen sex when he walked in that one time,” Rix says.
“You’d think he would have learned his lesson.”
“Seriously.” Rix hands me a shirt, and I pull it over my head.
It’s a long-sleeve, loose knit, black V-neck sweater.
“You don’t need to try the other one on. This is perfect. You look sexy and cute and like the perfect date,” Rix assures me.
My phone buzzes. I check the screen. “Oh, God. He’s here. I’m nervous.”
“Don’t be. Forget about the other guy who’s too stupid to see a good thing when it’s right in front of him and have fun,” Rix says pointedly.
“Purse.” Hemi hands it to me.
“Shoes.” Rix guides me to the front door where my cute, impractical-for-the-weather flats wait.
I message that I’m on the way down and buzz Jameson in so he can wait in the lobby.
“We’ll all be here when you get back, unless you tell us to GTFO so you can have some private time. Then we’ll be over at Tristan’s. Or text if you need saving and we’ll be there,” Rix assures me.
“You got this. Have fun.” Hemi pulls me in for a hug.
“It’s going to be great.” Tally gives me a thumbs-up.
“That bra is really kick-ass.” Dred high-fives me. “Have a good time.”
I leave before I do something stupid, like change my mind. My stomach is full of butterflies as I take the elevator to the lobby.
Jameson is sitting on the couch when I step off the elevator. He’s a nice-looking guy. Hot, really. He has dark brown hair, lightly tanned skin, and dark brown eyes framed with thick lashes. He’s over six feet, lean, and a runner. He doesn’t play hockey and is involved in a lot of extracurriculars. He’s definitely one of the good guys.
“Hey.” He runs his hands over his thighs as he stands. His eyes light up and a wide smile forms as his gaze moves over me. It’s an appreciative look.
“Hey.” I return the smile and adjust my purse.
He comes in for a hug, which I awkwardly return.
“You look really good,” he says after he releases me. His gaze darts down for a second before returning to my face. “I like your sweater.”
“Thanks. You look good too.” He’s wearing a university hoodie, a pair of jeans, boots, a winter coat, and a baseball cap. So he’s dressed like any regular student.
“Oh, uh, I came straight from campus.” He motions to the lobby. “This place is nice.”
“Yeah. The pool and workout room are pretty sweet. And there’s loads of shopping and restaurants around.” I don’t know what to do with my hands, so I shove them in my pockets. “We can go across the street to the diner, if that’s cool with you.”
“Yeah, absolutely.” The right side of his mouth tips up. “I’m really glad you said yes to coffee, Aurora.”
God, he’s sweet. And he likes me. There’s no hot and cold with him. He’s consistent, unlike one guy I know. “Yeah, me too.”
But my stomach tightens as the front doors open and that guy walks through them, bringing a swirl of cold air and a furl of snow with him. Hollis removes his toque and runs a hand through his thick, dark waves. He’s wearing a pair of jeans that hug his hockey thighs in all the right places, the ridiculous banana duck hoodie I bought him two years ago for Christmas, and his winter jacket. His outfit and Jameson’s are pretty much the same, but for some reason Hollis makes it look effortlessly sexy.
“Holy shit,” Jameson mutters.
I should have met Jameson at the Pancake House.
Hollis’s expression softens when he sees me, until his eyes shift to Jameson, whose hand is currently pressed against the small of my back. Hollis’s gaze turns murderous, and my vagina gets stupidly excited.
“Is that Hollis Hendrix?” Jameson asks.
Hollis tucks his toque into his pocket and heads for us. “Hey, Princess.” He shocks the hell out of me when he pulls me in for a hug.
I stand there, stiffly, trying not to appreciate the way he smells, or how right it feels to be in his arms—even though I’m highly confused and justifiably pissed off. Eventually, I get it together and poke him in the ribs.