Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
I already feel that compulsion in me to tell… to do what I always do, and blab whenever someone asks me to keep a secret.
Lucy didn’t tell you anything, remember? If there’s no secret, then there’s no harm in saying what you think “might” be wrong with Lucy, is there?
I’m still at odds with myself over it. I know tomorrow I won’t be as mad at Lucy as I am today, and stirring up trouble for her and her dad is the last thing I want for any of us, especially now that I have my own little secret. Not so little, really. A Dr. Bigg-sized secret involving me riding him like a pogo stick rates up there with Lucy being pregnant. I mean, if she is pregnant. Grrr! I don’t know what to do about it, and it’s only moments before Bowdie picks up on my mood.
“What’s on your mind?” he asks me casually. “You still thinking about Luce?”
I nod before I can stop myself, already wanting to cover my mouth with both my hands so I don’t blab what I’m thinking. Out of everyone, Bowdie’s the last person I wanna lie to ever, but is not saying something the same as telling a lie, even if you know it’s gonna get someone else in trouble either way?
If there was one man who’d know the answer to that, it’s Bowdie. He’s super-smart apart from being super-handsome, but even asking him that would kinda give away what I’m thinking. As far as I know, Bowdie’s never heard of Josh and thinks Lucy’s a single, eighteen-year-old girl like me. I mean, I was single. Ugh! See? I don’t know what to make of it.
“I think me coming home early got her a little bent outta shape, is all,” Bowdie remarks, glancing at me when I stay quiet. I crimp my lips shut tight as a subtle compromise from maybe using the seatbelt as a gag.
We drive in silence, which Bowdie doesn’t seem to mind. He reaches for my hand that he rests in his lap and squeezes from time to time, letting me know in his own way that everything will work out just fine. I hope it does, for both our sakes, but it sure makes it easier to think about other things being so close to Bowdie. Finally… and all in less than one day! That has to be some kind of record.
I tell myself that no matter what happens, as long as I’m true to Bowdie and myself, we can’t go wrong. I also remind myself that I’m only guessing Lucy’s pregnant. I don’t know for sure. So, for today at least, for the next few hours, I need to put all that Lucy business outta my mind if I want to make the most of what already feels like a special adventure, Dr. Bigg style.
It’s not quite all the way into the city, but on the fringe bordering the river, there’s a newish five-star hotel that kinda loomed up outta nowhere over the past six months. When I see it looming up in my field of vision and Bowdie crane his neck low so he can see under the visor of his windshield, I assume that’s where we’re headed.
“You’re still… Ya know?” Bowdie asks a little awkwardly as he glances at me again. I nod feverishly to let him know I’m still keener than ever to continue what we’ve started, but it seems there’s just no keeping anything from him. It’s like he can read my damn mind, or at least the chapter headings and table of contents. I squeeze his huge hand in both of mine, leaning over and pecking his cheek before giving the thick line in the front of his jeans a squeeze, too, really letting him know I’m still interested, which draws a low rumble of satisfaction from him. The deep throb of the car’s motor runs through the pair of us, or is it us making the car shake? Whichever it is, I can’t get enough of it, and if this is how I feel every time Bowdie touches me, then I’m all in on however he wants to do this.
The hotel is a lot swankier up close, casting a huge shadow over the other buildings but lending an atmosphere that could be from someplace exotic like Rome or Paris. The surrounding shopping district looks a little dated and tired next to it, but it’s all I can see by the time Bowdie pulls up or skids to a stop, I should say. He has to hit the brakes to avoid hitting some idiot stepping right out in front of the car. I open my mouth in a gasp of shock.
Bowdie’s massive hand and arm protect me, holding me firmly in my seat and feeling way better than any airbag or seat belt as my chest bristles under his touch. It’s his reaction, coupled with the idiot in question, that has my gasp turn into a groan of near disbelief.