Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
“What is the white sauce on the escargot made out of?” she asks the server, and he doesn’t hesitate to answer her question.
“Butter, cream, garlic, parsley, and thyme,” he answers. “It’s a very nice accompaniment to the dish.”
“Okay.” My mom nods and hands him her menu. “I’ll take that. And a glass of your best Chardonnay, please.”
The server heads off toward the kitchen, and my mom moves all her attention back to me.
“Let me guess,” she says with a secret smile as she glances down at my attire of a Dragons Football T-shirt and jeans—clearly out of place in this fancy French scene. “You had football this morning.”
“That’s pretty much the story of my life.” I smirk. “But I did manage a shower before I headed here.”
“Well, I certainly appreciate that, Blake.” She grins.
“Didn’t want to scare any of the clientele in this swanky place.”
She rolls her eyes. “If I’m going to do lunch in New York, Blake, I’m going to eat good food.”
“And I gave you a great pizza recommendation.”
“Pizza?” Her laugh is of the hoity-toity variety. “You know me better than that, darling.”
It’s my turn to laugh. “I guess I should just be thankful you chose a restaurant close to campus.”
“Exactly,” she says as the server sets down her glass of wine in front of her. She takes a sip, and my phone vibrates inside the pocket of my jeans. I pull it out to find a text message from the one girl I haven’t stopped thinking about since I left her apartment this morning. The one girl you technically never stop thinking about.
Lexi: I just saw you this morning, and I have two mandatory meetings with my professors today. I have to make a little time in my schedule for things other than you right now and get back to you when I can.
Her response is in relation to the text I sent her five minutes after I walked out of her apartment door: When can I see you again?
Me: You’re not going to sleep at the lab, though…we could plan on that.
Lexi: I thought standard booty calls came in after 2 a.m. It’s not even three in the afternoon.
It feels like an alternate universe for a brilliant girl like Lexi to even type the word booty call. But damn, it sure does make me want to laugh.
Me: No booty call, babe. I just want to see you. Not sure if you know this, but I really like seeing you. Can’t get enough of it, actually.
Lexi: I should be home around nine.
Me: I’ll be there.
Lexi: That text was factual, and yet, somehow, you turned it into an invitation.
I can’t help the laugh that bursts out of my lungs, and when I glance up, my mom’s curious eyes are locked on me. Her perfectly sculpted brow arches, but I just flash her an apologetic smile before looking back down at my phone.
Every so often, Lexi’s boldness zings you with that sharp, dry wit of hers. And when it hits, it’s like a curve ball out of nowhere.
Me: You didn’t invite me? Because it felt like it.
Lexi: I think you’re just making assumptions based on what you want.
Me: And what do I want, Lex?
Lexi: I don’t know, Blake. What do you want?
Me: You.
My mom clears her throat, and I glance up from the screen of my phone with an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that.”
But I also send one last message.
Me: See you at 9.
My mom watches me closely as I shove my phone back into my pocket, and her eyes never stop assessing my face until I reach forward to take a drink of the water I had the server bring me before she got here.
“What?” I eventually ask, and my mom’s face splits into a knowing smile.
“Who were you just texting with?”
“Just…a friend.”
“A friend makes you smile like that?” She arches that brow, her tone teasing. “Because that looked like more than a friendly smile, darling.”
“Is this your way of asking me if I’m seeing someone?”
“Are you seeing someone?”
“I am,” I admit, but when she starts to open her mouth—no doubt ready to bombard me with a hundred questions—I hold up a hand. “But we’re keeping our relationship on the DL.”
“The DL?”
“Down-low.”
“What in the world does that mean?”
“It means we’re not telling anyone about it yet.”
“And why would you do that?”
Her question catches me off guard. At first, I understood the secret-keeping, but at this point, I’m just going along with it because I’ve been asked to.
It’s not what I want. It’s not even who I am.
Truth is, I’ve been so wrapped up in spending time with Lexi that, outside of football, I haven’t even considered the other things our relationship has made me give up.
I haven’t been attentive to my friends or my teammates—other than Lexi, I haven’t spent much time with anyone at all. Ace alone has sent me at least fifty texts this week, begging me to hit up some random party or club with him. I’ve said no every time, even knowing he’s neck-deep in his I-just-realized-I’m-in-love-with-my-best-friend crisis. It’s a dick move, and I don’t like the weight of the realization as it hits me.