Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Landon.
A slow smile crosses his face as he turns sideways. His eyes start at my crazy mop of hair on top of my head, before then skimming over my body. Heat courses through me, both embarrassment and well… a little bit turned on if I’m being honest. Landon is sexy as sin, and to have his attention on me, well, I’m only human. What makes it worse is I know what it feels like to have his arms around me.
Danger. Danger. Danger. I keep repeating the words over and over in my head. Landon Barker is dangerous. Not in an illegal kind of way, but in an he-can-break-your-heart kind of way.
Suddenly, I remember that not only is my hair in a messy knot, but I have zero makeup on, and I’m in a T-shirt and yoga pants. Isn’t that just my luck. I literally run into the sexiest man on earth and I look like a hot mess. Not to mention, said sexy man has been… perusing me? Is that what he’s been doing?
Damn alarm clock!
“You okay, freckles?” he asks in his deep, masculine voice.
“I-I’m so sorry,” I manage to squeak the words. Why am I suddenly nervous around him? This is Landon, and I’m not trying to impress him. Not really, but I’d still like to be presentable.
“Happens all the time.” He smirks.
I’m sure it does. His eyes alone are enough to have panties dropping everywhere, add in his thick, dark locks, and his body, and it’s obvious he’s not just being a conceited jerk; he’s speaking the truth. “I should have been paying attention,” I say when I realize he’s still looking at me.
“It’s all good.” He nods. His eyes are doing another lazy stroll of my body, making me feel self-conscious.
“I woke up late. It’s been one of those mornings.” I laugh humorlessly. You know what I’m talking about, those laughs that make everyone within earshot uncomfortable. Yeah, that’s me. Fuck my life.
“Uh-huh,” he says, a smile tilting his gorgeous full lips. “Something keeping you up at night, Em?”
Why does his voice suddenly sound like sex? “So, uh, you come here often?” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I want to force them back in. Landon has managed to turn me into a bumbling, lame, small-talking idiot.
“No, first time actually.” He doesn’t give me more than that. My eyes rake over him, taking him in from head to toe. Why am I acting this way this morning? I think it’s the eyes. Then again, maybe it’s the muscles, or that beard. Hmm, I do love me some beard. Either way, I need to snap out of it. This is Landon. The player, not just on the field if my internet research is accurate. We’re friends, nothing more.
“Hello.” He waves his hand in front of my face to get my attention. Not that it’s possible, but if it were possible, my face would be even redder from embarrassment. “You okay?” He raises his eyebrows like he’s not really sure. Is that concern on his face?
Great, I’ve officially presented myself as the crazy, messy, stare-off-into-space, laugh-at-the-wrong-time girl. Just the icing on this shit-tastic day. “Yeah, sorry, just thinking about what I’m going to get.” Lies.
“I’m not sure either.” He rubs his hand over his chin, over his beard.
“Cinnamon coffee cake muffin,” I blurt out my favorite. “You can’t go wrong.” I’m nodding like a crazy person. I blame all of this on my damn alarm clock. Waking up late puts me off-kilter every damn time. I hate it. I make a mental note to get a backup for the future. No more days like today. I don’t think I’d survive them, and the day’s just started.
“Next!” the barista calls out.
Just like that, he turns to place his order and I’m once again faced with his strong,
muscular back, and that ass. Realizing I’m standing here staring at said ass, I avert my gaze to anywhere but his ass. I settle on a poster advertising an upcoming craft fair at the local convention center. Maybe I’ll see if Aubrey wants to go. He turns to me. “What do you want, Em?”
“Nothing, I have a list, so you go ahead.” I wave him off.
“Emma.”
“Landon.” I match his tone. “Really, I’m good. Next time.”
“I’m holding you to that,” he says, and turns back to pay for his order.
Closing my eyes, I take a cleansing breath. I need to get my head in the game. I’m not some teenager who can’t talk to guys, and this is Landon. He’s not a stranger. Sure, we’re not BFFs, but we’ve spent some time together so the way I’m acting is ridiculous.
“Ma’am.” I hear an irritated barista call out. Opening my eyes and snapping my head to face forward, I see it’s my turn. I’m holding up the line, and Landon is gone.