Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 50080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
OH.
Normal people will probably think there's something fundamentally wrong about helping your blind date get away with murder, but I personally think it's one of the sweetest and most thoughtful gestures anyone has ever made for me.
Don't keep pushing people away, Kay.
While my paranoid self is adamant this man has to be hiding a fatal flaw or two, my sister has always known best, and since I'm still inclined to take her advice even when she's long dead—-
"May I call you Rake?" His name is the last barrier in my mind, and I won't be able to move forward if I keep thinking about him as 'Boy', this 'guy', or just plain 'he'.
"You don't seem the type to care about names."
"I don't, usually. But sometimes, with the way my mind is wired differently, it gets stupidly fixated on stuff—-"
"And my name is one of them?"
"I'm just having a really hard time seeing you as the 'drake' type."
"Because of the rapper?" he asks dubiously.
I blink at his words. "I'm not sure what drakes have to do with rappers, but I'm just finding it difficult to picture you as a male duck that quacks and waddles."
"Should I be flattered?" he asks in amusement. "I think that's a compliment of sorts."
"No," I say honestly. "It's not."
But this only has him chuckling, and I'm surprised at how the sound makes my heart skip a beat.
"And what about Rake? Why do you want to call me that?"
"Because it almost sounds like Drake, and...because you look like the type to play around?"
"Ouch."
"But it's not just that—-"
He gestures me to stop, and I shut up.
"But wait, there's more," he says teasingly. "That's what you should've said."
Well, if he says so...
"But wait," I repeat obediently, "there's more."
I'm amazed at how this has him chuckling again, and even more amazed at how much I love the sound of it. Is this what it feels like to have a crush?
"What's the other reason?" he asks.
I suddenly feel shy and awkward, and I wonder if it's also because I might be crushing on him.
"Kayra?"
His voice is deep and gentle, and the sound is enthralling.
"I, um..."
I've never stammered before, and the sound is disgusting.
"I also want to call you Rake because..."
My breath catches for no apparent reason, and this, for better or for worse, leaves no room for doubt. I, Kayra Petinos, am indeed crushing on a member of the opposite sex, and as for the reason I'd like to call said man something else—-
"You seem like the kind of man who'd be really, really good at cleaning up messes?"
"Ah."
Why does everything this man produces with his lips sound so enthralling? Is this really how it is to have a crush, and it's as if the whole world only revolves around the other person?
"How about a deal?" he suddenly asks.
"I'm listening."
"You can call me Rake on two conditions."
The gleam in his eyes is wickedly suggestive, and the sight does the strangest things to my breathing. Why has no one ever told me how crushing on a man can also lead to respiratory concerns?
"Firstly: you must promise not to think of yourself as a mess I need to clean up."
"I...I..." He actually has me stuttering in my shock, and I hate it.
"And secondly—-"
His gaze lowers to my lips.
No way. He can't possibly—-
"A kiss."
And yet he has.
"You really want to kiss me even knowing what I am?"
"Yes, I really do want to kiss you even knowing what you are, and that's...a mafia goddess?"
I am not going to laugh.
He rubs his jaw again, and I am so, so insanely tempted to beg him to keep doing it because I've never seen anything sexier.
"Not accurate enough?" he asks. "Then how about...mafia goddess with a killer bod?"
No, I am still not going to laugh.
"Your choice if you want to take it literally or figuratively—-"
Oh shit, I think I am going to laugh.
And so I do, and when I see his eyes twinkle as he watches me dissolve in stitches—-
That's when I finally get it.
So that's why.
The reason Thomas thinks this guy is my perfect match is all spelled out in the way his eyes simply don't stop twinkling no matter what I throw at him.
This man will never be scared of me, and I'll never be scared for him.
It's all a person like me can ask, really, and it helps me muster the courage to look straight into his eyes as I strive to meet his first condition.
"I promise."
I won't ever think of myself as a mess.
"And now it's your turn," I add.
Don't keep pushing people away, Kay.
"Kiss me."
Chapter Five
A WEIRD THING HAPPENS as soon as I say the words, and when I see his dark eyes start to twinkle—-
This can't be happening.
"I hate to be the one to break this to you—-" It's his gentle voice again, and since I've always been a quick learner, I now know that sound means I'm in trouble.