Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 50706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Okay, that’s extreme. Gwen isn’t ripped. She’s just really nicely toned, and she has the body of someone in her early thirties. Her face barely has a wrinkle, and her dark hair is tastefully dyed with blonde highlights, probably to cover up the gray, but on her, it looks tasteful. She’s wearing a dark blue tunic and yoga pants, I think. I haven’t looked under the table, but I’m guessing she went for those or leggings. She never did like wearing jeans, and I didn’t get any glimpses of bare legs peeking out from shorts or a skirt when I slid into the booth.
“Oh, geez.” Gwen laughs softly, a little embarrassed by the compliment.
Honestly, I’m not sure why my dad was dumb enough to let Gwen go. She was always so nice. She was pretty, kind, and she didn’t have any sort of ego. She was always embarrassed by compliments, and she worked hard. I don’t know why they were constantly arguing about something, but I do know my dad didn’t treat her very well, and he was messy all the time, which used to drive Gwen nuts. I’ve always kind of wondered if that’s why my mom up and left too.
I mean, I know my dad is an amazing man, and I love the heck out of him. He raised me, basically by himself, and I have nothing but respect and admiration for him. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to be a dad and have to raise your daughter without a mom. Sometimes, things were awkward. And sometimes, they were hard, but Dad was always my number one fan. For real. He made time for me. He was there for me.
I just wished he could have done more of that for Gwen. I can also honestly say as good as my dad was to me, he was never like that with the women he dated or with Gwen, who he married. I’m not sure why he couldn’t just open himself up and be a better partner. I’m not sure why he was always so quick to lay blame or instigate arguments on purpose. It’s like he didn’t want to risk any part of himself or put any part of himself into a relationship. I’m not sure if it’s because of what happened with my mom walking out on him or if he was just kind of broken even before my mom.
There’s a lot I don’t know. Sometimes, over the years, I’ve been afraid I’m a little bit like him. I’ve dated people, but I can never seem to make anything stick. I used to tell myself it was because I just hadn’t found THE ONE yet, but yeah. I’m starting to think maybe I’m a little bit broken too. I don’t argue or fight like my dad, and I’m not lazy. I do try and pull my own weight and give a hundred percent and everything, but things still don’t work out. People still leave. Or sometimes, most of the time, I think we just mutually lose interest.
There’s this massive part of me that really doubts there is anyone out there for me.
And that makes me think about Raiden.
About all the things I already feel for him—when I’m with him, when I think about him, and when I think about our past—that I haven’t felt with another person. Ever.
It can’t be real. It’s only been two weeks, during which I’ve done my best to avoid him. It’s just my brain playing tricks on me. Or my body, because Raiden looks like a fantasy character—the kind that walks around wearing a loincloth type garment and some crude armor, kicks ass with a sword, and is all bronzed and muscly and oiled up.
I’m seriously blaming the sudden tingling and my racing pulse on the rabies.
“Zoe?”
“What?” I drop my menu and whip around to face Raiden. Apparently, I was so lost in thought that whatever was just said, I completely ignored.
“I was just telling mom how surprising it was to take over a company and find you working there—what a nice surprise it was. She asked me about what you do, so I filled her in with a very brief overview. That’s what you missed while you were somewhere in space.”
“Sorry,” I mutter. I face Gwen guiltily. “I got too much sun yesterday. I think it fried my brain.”
“That’s alright. It’s the main reason I moved out of Miami. The humidity was just brutal, and you could never escape it. Here, the sun will only fry you two months out of the year. It’s much more bearable.”
“Oh. Yes.” I hastily glance at the menu and pick the first thing I see, then shut it just as fast as I opened it. I set it aside and make sure I’m sitting as far to the edge of the booth as I can.