Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
“No.” He tried to breathe funny in Erika’s presence. In my opinion, falling on his face is mild compared to what could have happened to him. Instead of the floor greeting him, it could’ve been my fist.
I hustle Erika into the elevator and press the third-floor button. All these dicks around at night worries me. Maybe I’ll get one of the younger guys at the gym to come work the nightshift.
“I’ll be right back,” Erika says, dipping into her dorm room. I only get a quick look at it before the door’s shut in my face. The room appears small, but tidy—kind of like Erika herself.
She doesn’t take long. In a hot second, she’s out in new leggings and an oversized sweatshirt. A bag is slung across her body. I check my watch. “We have enough time to pick up some breakfast.”
“Wasn’t that what the ice cream was for?”
I fold her hand in mine. “Nah. That was like a pre-breakfast.”
Her hair is up again in that thick knot. Having seen all of it last night, I’m wondering how she gets that mass into one small circle. I did watch a few braiding tutorials on YouTube but didn’t come across one that was like this. Guess I’ll have to expand my viewing playlist.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks quietly as we head down the hall toward the elevator.
“Your hair. How do you get it to stick up like that?”
“I have a clip.” She flips up the small bun and reveals a doo-dad about the same color as her hair.
Impressed, I nod. “Wow. I feel like I’ve just been let into a secret society.”
She nudges me with her shoulder, a move that may have been designed to knock me off balance, but since I weigh a good hundred pounds more than her, it feels like a love pat.
“Tonight, are you going to dance?”
“Probably.” She rubs one small foot against the side of her leg.
“Mind if I come?”
I noticed she goes late at night, when no one else is around. I can’t see much from outside the studio—mostly shadows and stuff. It’s a turn-on.
“I don’t usually let anyone see me dance,” she shares quietly. “But you can come if you want.”
“I want. How come you don’t want anyone seeing you dance?”
“I’m not as good as I used to be.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” We step into the elevator.
She gestures toward her leg. “It means that before I broke this, I was pretty amazing. I won contests and stuff. But afterwards, I didn’t have the strength and my ability declined. I dance for pleasure now only. Not for an audience.”
“I don’t have to come inside.”
She considers it. “No. I want you to. I know you won’t judge me.”
“Anyone who would judge you is living a miserable life.” I bring her hand to my lips. “I appreciate you letting me in. I know it means something.”
When we get off the elevator, the body in the middle of the floor has been cleared away. The hall monitor stares at me with a narrowed, suspicious eye. I wave and smile and she falls off her chair.
“You probably shouldn’t do that,” Erika informs me.
“I guess not.” It’s not the first time some girl has tripped when I’m around. I don’t really know why though. I shake my head in confusion.
“You’re a menace,” Erika says.
“How so?” I hold the door open so she can walk outside.
“You really don’t know how attractive you are, do you? The girl fell off her chair because you smiled at her.”
“Nah.” I hang my arm around Erika’s shoulders. “It was probably you and how good your tight ass looks in those yoga pants.”
“You’re wrong, but I’m not going to argue. I like that you’re blissfully ignorant.”
I help her into my truck. “About what?”
“Nothing.” She smirks and then leans over to pop a surprise kiss on my lips. Whatever we were discussing flies out of my brain.
“Oh no you don’t,” I tell her. I grab her hips and step between her legs. “If you’re going to kiss me, do it right.”
I angle my mouth over hers and pillage her for a good five minutes until she’s breathless, flushed and her hair is somewhere around her ass. “Sorry about your bun,” I say without a hint of apology in my voice.
She smiles as she does up her hair again. “I don’t think you are.”
“I’m not,” I admit.
On the way to the gym, she asks about my boxing.
“When I was young, I would go into rages. It got me kicked out of the house and then out of a couple foster homes before I got placed at Patty’s. She introduced me to Morry, a trainer, and that was that.”
“That’s cool.”
“You’ll like her. She’s like a second mom to me.”
“A woman trainer is unusual, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Morry’s suffered a lot of discrimination. “But we’re winning. So the gym’s growing and people are interested. Plus, she gets press from it. If you ever get tired of dancing at the theatre studio on campus, you could do it here. We have mirrors. No bar though. And no wood floor,” I add, doing a mental tour of the place. “Okay, maybe it’s a shit place for dancing, but we could add on.” I really like this idea. I could invest some of my prize money in expanding the place. A dance studio could be nice. As I pull into the driveway, I spot a few cars. Erika’s shy, so I explain, “There’s a couple guys and girls training this morning.”