Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 74022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Even though she has every right to be.
She had the courtesy of even asking me, and that raises her in my books.
And I told her the truth, I think. I mean, we don’t actually have anything going on. We’re becoming good friends, we talk often, laugh a bit, and he’s almost like my rock, but is there anything romantic? I don’t think so. I mean, there have been a few lingering stares, a few random touches, and a few moments where I have felt something more than friendship, but he’s never pushed it.
So I’ve never asked.
And honestly, I really don’t know what it is I want.
“That’s nice you took her home,” I finally tell him.
“Yeah, saves waitin’ for a cab. She was out there wearin’ next to nothin’, standin’ by herself.”
“I thought she would have gone home with Saskia.”
“You see the way Mason was lookin’ at Saskia? Nobody was gettin’ a ride home with them.”
I laugh. “You’re right about that.”
“I’m goin’ to have a shower, you stayin’ for dinner?” he asks me, staring down once he’s stood.
From down here, he looks so big and strong. So powerful. I stare up at him, and my heart does do a strange little flutter.
“I can cook if you like?”
He studies me. “Sounds good.”
He turns and walks inside, and I face the thick row of trees above his fence line and exhale.
My life feels like a complicated mess right now, even though everything is going seemingly well. I have a job, I have made some great friends, and I’m happy, overall. Yet it still feels like everything is a jumbled mess, and my emotions are getting the better of me.
I can’t make sense of any of it, and yet I can’t seem to stop it from happening, either.
I probably need a vacation.
Or maybe I just need a whole new life?
Who knows.
Either way, I hope things start feeling better soon.
~3~
EARLIER – CHANTELLE
Work sucks.
Donkey balls.
That’s putting it mildly.
I didn’t get home from my shift at a local restaurant until past midnight last night, and it’s safe to say I’m screwed. I don’t mind the extra cash, but I’m starting to think the extra sleep might be nice, too. Thankfully, it’s my day off and I’m more than ready to do absolutely freaking nothing.
Nothing at all.
Zero.
I sip my dark black coffee and sit at the kitchen table. It’s already nine, which means I slept longer than I probably should have, but I needed it and, to be fair, I earned it. I didn’t have any big plans for the day, anyway. Saskia is working, so she’s out. And I’m quite happy to lie on my sofa and do nothing but watch some cheesy soaps all day.
My doorbell rings, and I look up, literally scowling at my door.
You can’t be serious?
Who in their right ever loving mind would be here at this time of the morning? And most importantly, why? Why would they want to come to my house?
I can only think it might be Saskia, perhaps she has a day off that I didn’t know about.
I don’t know who else would bother coming over this early.
I stand up with an exaggerated huff and walk over to the door, not caring that my hair is still thrown up in a messy bun, I’m wearing nothing but a tank and short shorts, and I probably look like shit. I swing the door open and my eyes get big. Well. This is absolutely not who I expected to be at my door.
Boston stands, two coffees in hand, staring at me.
He looks god damned incredible, all decked out in his leathers, blue jeans, those boots he never ties. And I forget, for a small moment, what I’m wearing and how I look. Then, I remember and squeak, “What are you doing here?”
His eyes run, slowly, so damned slowly, down my body until he stops at my tiny shorts, then he moves back up until he’s holding my eyes again. By now, my skin is prickling all over, because good lord that was intense.
“You want to go for a ride?”
I cross my arms, trying to hide the fact that I’m braless and my boobs just went on full alert at the sight of a hot biker standing in my door. “Well, last time you said that, we most certainly went for a ride ... You’re going to need to be clearer.”
He grins and, I swear, if I was wearing panties, they would have melted right off.
“On my bike.”
He wants to take me out? On his bike? Unexpectedly? I’m not going to lie, I feel a little giddy because I really didn’t expect to see him again after he left the other night. I figured a fuck was all it was and we weren’t going to do it again. I certainly didn’t think he would be here, coffee in hand, asking me if I basically wanted to hang out with him today.