Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 57043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“He doesn't stare at me at work all the time.” My face gets hot. “Like, there have been a few times when there's—”
“Tension?” Mags says with a laugh in her voice.
“Fine. Yes. But it's not like he spends all day watching me. He's professional. I'm professional.”
A gust of wind blows across my lone living room window, making a soft rattling sound. It's not snowing anymore, and I bet what's on the ground will be gone by tomorrow.
“Back to last night, then. You screwed up being professional?”
“Kind of?” I bite my lip, thinking of how to tell her the story, which usually means I'm overthinking it. “Griffin was thinking we should close the bar early because of the snow. You know how people are. It was empty. Nobody wanted to drive.”
“I didn't want to drive,” Mags says.
“We figured nobody else would be coming in. So we closed the place up, and I went to the back room to get my stuff, and when I came out, he was standing there.”
The way Griffin looked at me still gives me the good kind of shivers. I have to close my eyes at the memory. I just wanted to feel for a moment what it would be like. My head pounds with last night’s mistake and Mags gets impatient.
“Is that when you finally made out with him?”
It's my turn to laugh. “No. He asked me if I wanted him to drive me home, and I said no, that kind of thing, and then he said...you look like you want to kiss me.”
“Because you did want to kiss him.”
“Yeah, and nobody can blame me.” I tip my head back on the arm of the couch and close my eyes. “My best friend isn't going to blame me, I hope.”
“I could never blame you,” Mags says earnestly. “He's good looking. I'm allowed to say that because it's objectively true.”
“So then I kissed him.” My heart races at the memories of how quickly the kiss had turned passionate, like we both knew we'd only have the one chance. It seemed almost like a spell that would be over the second we left the bar. “And then some.”
Mags squeals so loud that I have to hold the phone away from my ear.
“Oh my God, Renee.” I can almost see her with her hand on her chest and her face all red from being so excited for me. “Finally.”
I'm not sure what to say to that, but I can't say nothing to Mags. She always knows when I'm staying quiet because I'm conflicted.
“Renee,” she says, quieter. “Did you not have a good time?”
“I had a great time.” I let out a groan. “I just don't know if...” I can’t finish but luckily Mags takes over with an interrogation.
“Well, if you didn't have a bad time—are you telling me you did it, like, in the office? Or—”
“On the bar,” I say in a small voice.
“That's so hot,” Mags whispers. “I can't believe you went for it…like went for it.”
I glance around my neat, inexpensive apartment. It’s mostly filled with simple build-your-own furniture and pops of colors in pillows and throws.
“He texted me this morning and asked if I wanted to go bowling.”
“A bowling date? That is so cute.”
“I turned him down.”
“What? You did not turn him down. You've had a crush on him for like forever.”
My stomach sinks. Mags knows about my home life. She knows about what’s going on with my mother. She knows more than everyone else how right now is not a good time. And with my boss? If something were to happen and I lost that job, there’s so much that could go wrong so quickly. I try to keep it simple, rather than letting the emotions show in my voice.
“I've thought he was hot for forever, but I can't date him, Mags! I work for him. We can't go on dates or the whole town will have something to say about it.”
She's silent for a beat, and my heart aches. Mags understands what it's like to have the whole town weigh in on something that should be your own personal decision.
“I hope I didn't hurt your feelings. I'm really sorry if I did,” I tell her.
“You didn't,” she says, “But how could bowling go badly? Unless you dropped the ball on your foot or got it stuck to your fingers and he had to take you to the ER. But even that would be kind of romantic.”
“It's not romantic to drop a bowling ball on your foot,” I point out. “And I'm saying my job could go badly, and I need my job.” I feel anxious thinking about having to quit or getting fired because Griffin changes his mind about me, or the town puts pressure on him for dating an employee. So many things could happen. “I would be really screwed if I lost my job.”