Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 68243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
She said those words as if she was waiting for me to argue with her. To tell her that I was the reason she shouldn’t.
But I chose not to give her what I felt like she was hinting for.
I turned my face so that it was hidden in the cushion of the couch, solidly understanding the situation at hand.
Ashe and I didn’t work.
We fought like cats and dogs.
We were attracted to each other.
But attraction couldn’t carry a relationship.
Something which both of us realized, which was why we’d never pursued anything like this before.
At least, that was my take on it.
Sure, the attraction had always been there since the moment that we’d been old enough to realize what it was.
“Do you think I should accept a date with a cop?” she asked curiously. “He works at KPD.”
I did sit up then, my eyes narrowing.
“Which cop?” I asked.
She turned her phone so that it was facing me.
“This one.” She showed me.
I barely refrained from saying ‘that pussy?’
“Uhh.” I paused. “He’s nice.”
He was nice.
And a pushover.
Ashe would hate him.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll accept.”
The officer, Trace Davidson, was a bit older than us. And he still lived with his parents.
I couldn’t wait to hear what Ashe thought about that.
Picking up her stack of papers that she’d gathered, I read over the reports. Each one of them reported a cat missing.
And she was right. There were over forty of them missing in just the last week alone.
“Hey.” Ashe paused. “Did you know that Linnett, your ex-girlfriend, moved to Kilgore?”
I frowned and looked at her.
She was showing me her phone, and on it was a picture of Linnett in front of the oil derricks that sat in front of the Oil Museum.
“No,” I said. “I had no clue. She’s probably just passing through.”
Ashe shook her head as she turned the phone back around to her.
“Actually, no. It says on her profile that she works here. Slater Printing,” she disagreed. “Didn’t they have a place in Benton, too?”
I snorted and went back to the papers. “Yes. They have places all over the south.” I paused. “Why do you know this?”
“We’re friends on Facebook,” she answered.
An idea started to form in my mind.
“We should go on a double date.”
I honestly couldn’t believe those words had just come out of my mouth.
But I was so focused on proving to myself that I could do this, move on from Ashe, that I didn’t think about what was coming out of my mouth until it was too late.
“What?” she asked.
“We should go on a date,” I repeated the dumbass thing that’d just come out of my mouth. “You say yes to Trace, and I’ll ask Linnett. It’ll be like old times.”
I would’ve laughed had I not been trying to convince both her and myself that we could do this. Move on.
I could do this.
I really could.
Couldn’t I?
“You want to go out on a date with Linnett?” she asked, surprised.
I shrugged and nodded my head, the idea already taking root. “I’ll ask her if she wants to go. Maybe just to catch up. You ask Trace. We’ll hash out a time that works for both of us.”
That sounded like a terrible idea.
Honestly, what was I thinking?
“Okay…” she hesitated. “Are you sure?”
No, no I wasn’t.
There was a reason that Linnett and I hadn’t worked out.
She was crazy in high school.
But going out with her beat sitting there watching Ashe date.
That I couldn’t handle.
Chapter 10
At my funeral, I want you to stand up and say ‘at least she’s quit drinking.’
-Text from Ashe to Ford
Ashe
Our double date happened on a Friday, an entire two weeks later.
I wasn’t sure why the hell I’d agreed with him.
First, I wasn’t really sure that Trace was dating material.
Though he seemed nice when I’d met him the few times at the police department, and when I talked to him online, I had a feeling that he wasn’t going to cut it.
Then, there was the fact that I was going to have to look at Linnett hanging all over Ford again.
Seriously, I’d about had enough of her, and I hadn’t even seen her yet.
Her Facebook posts about ‘catching up with an old friend’ happened every single day.
And goddamn did she not drive me crazy with her countdowns.
‘Two more weeks until I see my old special friend.’
‘Two more days until I see Ford.’
‘Two more hours until our date.’
All of the posts were accompanied with about half a million hearts.
I was also quite happy to find out that Ford still wasn’t her friend.
He was, however, mine.
Want to know how I’d accomplished that? I’d stolen his phone in eleventh grade and made him a Facebook. Then I’d added myself and his family. Followed by everyone at school but Linnett.
Though granted, at the time it was just following Ford and Linnett’s breakup, so it was understandable.