Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Nope, eyes laser focused on me.
I kind of liked it.
“Hans is a Border Collie Sheep Dog mix. She’s all big and fluffy and a mess. I have to have her groomed twice a month so she doesn’t end up in tangled knots,” I said. “She’s all chill and shit. I’ve never met a dog like her before.”
“My dog, Lobo, is pretty chill, too. Maybe they can be lazy together,” he said.
I felt contentment start to sink into my bones, and was about to tell him so, but our food arrived.
“Anything else?” the waiter asked, eyes bouncing back and forth between me and Jonah.
“Nope. Nothing for now,” Jonah said. “Thank you.”
Clearly dismissed, the waiter walked away, this time only taking one glance over his shoulder.
“What happens if someone takes a bite of your food?” he asked. “And why the no sharing rule?”
I shrugged. “I think it stems from always having to share with my sister. I’m a twin.”
He nodded. “I know.”
“I had to share everything with her. My clothes. My toys. My bedroom at first. It wasn’t bad or anything, and I love my sister dearly, but I’m all protective over my food. She can have everything else in the world without a second thought, but not my food,” I expounded.
“What happens if I take a bite of your waffle?” he asked, pointing at my plate with his fork.
I thought about that for a few seconds.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “The thought of giving you a bite isn’t abhorrent to me. Which it would be with anyone else…try.”
So he did. He forked up the juicy middle part that I was about to eat and popped it into his mouth.
Other than the sadness of not getting to eat the middle part that was the best part, nothing else bugged me.
Huh. Interesting.
“I’m not super angry right now like I would’ve been had someone else done it,” I admitted. “Though you just literally forked up the best part on the entire plate. I was thinking you were going to fork off another piece that I hadn’t fixed up for myself.”
He chuckled as he went back to his own plate of food.
And only when he offered me the middle out of his pancake did I truly feel like this was going to work.
If I could allow him to eat off my plate, then we could probably do anything.
Chapter 8
I want to lose weight, but I don’t want to get caught up in one of those ‘eat right and exercise’ scams.
-Text from Piper to Jonah
Jonah
“You’re going to Facetime your dad so he can watch the bidding?” I asked the woman at my side.
“It’s his money,” she muttered. “I’m not spending that much on a car without his approval.”
I leaned back into my chair and watched as she pulled up her father’s name and called him.
Moments later, I could see his face on the screen.
“Your car is about to be up, Dad,” she stated, having to raise her voice slightly due to the din of noise that surrounded us. “I probably won’t be able to hear you well when the auction starts, so if you want me to bid, raise your hand. Okay?”
Her father’s face split into a grin, and he gave her a thumb up.
We’d been at the auction for an hour, and in that hour, I’d learned a lot about the woman at my side.
For instance, she loved American muscle cars. A lot. The older and shinier, the better.
“Bidding for the 1964 Chevy Nova will begin at fifty thousand,” the announcer started.
And then we were off.
Three minutes and sixteen seconds later, Sam had his Nova. For eighty-nine thousand dollars.
I winced.
That was a lot of fuckin’ money.
“You got it, Dad.” Piper was practically bouncing in her seat. “Are you happy?”
Sam nodded on the screen.
“Okay,” she said. “Well, I gotta go pay. Someone is already headed my way. I’ll call you when I’m done making arrangements.”
It wasn’t until intermission, and our thirty minutes to find something to eat fast, that I asked her what the big deal was about that particular car.
“It was in a movie called Bullitt,” she said, shrugging. “My dad apparently liked the movie and loved the car.”
Interesting.
“What’s your dream car?” I asked.
She shrugged. “A Chevelle, maybe? I love the Roadrunner and all, but it’s definitely not my favorite. One day I’ll have one. I’m going to paint it purple with those bass boat sparkles on it.”
Laughing at the thought of going up to a paint and body shop and asking for them to paint a vehicle ‘bass boat purple’ had me grinning like an idiot.
What else had me grinning like an idiot? The fact that I wanted to go up to a paint and body shop and ask them to paint the Chevelle I found her bass boat purple.
***
Piper
We arrived at the hotel hours later, exhausted, hungry, and on the verge of collapse.