Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
The banter starts up again with her response. “Protective.”
His leans around to lock his gaze with hers. “Unnecessary.”
They’re always like this.
It’s cute.
Kind of like they have their own little love language.
Xander and I never did anything like this in private or in public.
The recollection pulls an internal sigh of relief from me.
Yup.
Ignoring those texts was definitely the right call; however, the instant our waiter arrives, I order a double whiskey sour – with top-shelf Wilcox whiskey – and a round of something called “Hot Wheels”, which consists of garlic bread knots, cheese, jalapeños as well as secret spicy sauce for dipping to help further hush the thoughts that still believe the opposite.
Once the waiter has headed back to the bar, Merrick takes a moment to introduce me to the other people who were invited and are now arriving. One male is from an art class Jovi has – same sex oriented I discover when he fawns over our server from a distance –, three of the females are apparently random acquaintances they’ve made in the art community, and the last two people are a young, married couple who live in the same apartment complex as Jovi. From the information out of the couple, they met Merrick and Jovi at some random shindig hosted by the complex. According to the woman, Esme, her husband, Ezra, and Merrick are both gear heads, which forced her and Jovi to find something to talk about while they argued over the pros and cons of sports cars in comparison to muscle cars.
My cocktail gets dropped off at the same time our buzzer vibrates, indicating our lanes are ready.
Everyone seems kind enough, yet I still feel out of place.
Like the introvert in extrovert’s clothing.
Determined to keep making an effort, I linger near Jo’s side to make more conversation, finding her easiest to connect to. She offhandedly complains about a shitty day in class, and I comment accordingly. To my surprise, she asks me about what I studied in college, praises me for following my own path, and uses a promise of us exchanging numbers as a segue to why I have to sit next to her instead of one of the other females.
“Hi, I’m Jonah, and I’ll be your Mechanic for the evening,” the attractive young male informs the group.
“Because everything is car themed,” Merrick quietly announces to the group like we couldn’t have figured it out ourselves.
“Ohhhh,” the three women coo while nodding their new understanding.
Okay.
So maybe they needed assistance.
Jovi shoots me an annoyed expression prior to having another sip of her drink.
“Anything I can do to help you stay in your lane,” the pun which almost feels painful sounds actually charming in his baritone voice, “is my duty. Let’s start by gathering everyone’s shoe sizes for me to collect them from the back. Please be aware, this routine maintenance moment is not included in your service time.”
“Wow, everything really is car themed,” Jo says on a baffled giggled.
“Merrick already said that,” one of the females sneers from the set of seats across from us.
Jo prepares to bite back when her boyfriend’s left hand lovingly lands on her leg while the other waves to someone in the distance. “Looks like my roommate made it here just in time.”
Having completely forgotten we were expecting more people, I place my drink down on the nearby table, rise to my feet, and put on the most convincing friendly smile I can.
A smile that instantly fades when a face I never expected to see again appears directly in front of me.
“Boss, meet my roommate, Collins.”
Blue eyes, that for some reason still cause butterflies to flutter in the pit of my stomach to this day, latch onto my brown in shock.
Amazement.
Need.
“Collins, I’d like you to meet my boss-”
“Pres,” is whispered like a forgotten prayer that’s finally been found.
One that could resurrect an ancient power that’s buried.
That should probably stay buried.
Despite my best efforts to breathe, to catch the breath that’s been completely knocked out of my lungs, I’m left spiraling in fresh memories of the first time I ever saw him smile at me.
The first time we held hands.
Our first kiss.
Our second.
Our last.
Suddenly, suffocating on the past as well as the present becomes so unbearable that I can barely croak out my exit, “I have to go.”
There’s no waiting for the rest of my body to agree or object.
No additional opportunity for my brain to think of a more logical solution.
My feet swiftly spin me around in my expensive, new shoes, and my legs start pumping in haste.
One minute I’m a completely normal person, hanging out with individuals that I probably wouldn’t mind seeing on a more regular basis in the future, and the next I’m sprinting out the building like I’m shooting a Forrest Gump remake.
Okay, coming here was clearly the wrong card to play.