Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 52384 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52384 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
“I guess he really likes you.”
And she didn’t have to sound like she found that rather incredible. Whose side was she on anyway?
“And I did think you’d hit it off---”
“Freddie.” I put my camera gently down on the table, fearful that I’d end up damaging it in my current mood, which was worsening by the minute. “We did not hit it off. I still hate his guts---” I broke off at the look that Freddie sent my way.
You hate his guts, and yet you let him get to third base on a non-date?
I turned red even as I thought defensively, But I was under a lot of stress that time! And besides, he was an expert seducer. Any other girl in my position wouldn’t have been able to resist either.
Right?
“Well, he doesn’t seem to hate you back,” Freddie remarked. “He’s been pretty vocal about you being his girlfriend---”
“He’s lying, and can we please stop talking about this?” I reached for my camera again and started tinkering with it, pretending to be busy just so she’d drop the subject. Freddie was a lawyer after all, one of the best in the country actually. If we kept talking about Nathan Callis, I knew it was only a matter of time before she could ferret the truth out.
“All done with the photos?” my cousin asked after a beat.
“Yeah. I think I’ve got everything.” It was a late Thursday afternoon, and Freddie and I were at another downtown café I had been contacted to review. This one had a bookstore theme, with the spines of famous editions of classics painted on the ceiling. It was a nice touch, and seeing Tolkien, Austen, and Lovecraft next to each other was a lovely sight. On the other hand, it was a pain in the ass to photograph them. My neck was aching so badly now, I was this close to slapping a pain-relief patch over it, fashionable or not.
Freddie noticed me massaging my neck and clucked her tongue, saying, “Signs of old age, those are.”
“Shut up, Yoda.” I grabbed the menu from the table. “Let’s just eat.”
“As long as it’s your treat,” Freddie said cheerfully.
I scowled. “May I remind you that you’re older than me, which means you should be the one footing the bill?”
The state’s #1 hotshot and cheapskate prosecutor only grinned, saying blithely, “But you’re richer, so you’ll be the one to pay and that’s final.”
“I’m glad Sergei’s making you pay for all your dates.” I grumbled under my breath.
“What did you say?” Freddie asked suspiciously.
I flashed her an innocent smile. “Nothing.” Sergei Grachyov was a 25-year-old Russian billionaire who had been best friends with my cousin for a few years now. The younger man has also been outsmarting her for the same amount of time, with Sergei somehow able to force Freddie to cough up every time they went out.
“Can we order now?” Freddie asked after a minute.
“Give me another sec.”
She threw me an odd look, which was totally understandable. Both of us weren’t the type to dilly-dally on anything, and normally I’d have made up my mind ages ago---
But it was just so damn hard, when all I could think of was that night. Several days had already passed and yet, I was still unable to (forget) accept it. Even now, just remembering made me (aroused) mentally wince, and there wasn’t a night I didn’t have trouble sleeping, tossing and turning as I found myself plagued with memories in the dark.
Nathan gripping my thighs tightly---
The anticipation that curled in my stomach as I watched his head lower---
My fingers desperately clutching his hair as my hips thrust up against his mouth---
I caught my breath---
Oh God. Even now, the memories were just too much, and I hurriedly shook the thoughts away lest I started panting in public---
For a guy who told me he’d call but didn’t.
And that’s what I didn’t get at all. Nathan Callis was going around town announcing we were an item, and yet he hadn’t even called or texted me since that night. Who the hell did he think he was? And why the hell did I even care?
“I’m starving,” Freddie announced. “So can we please order now?”
Instead of answering, I said slowly, “Freddie?”
“What?”
With my face still hidden behind the menu, I asked in a small voice, “How the hell did my life come to this?”
Silence and then, “Do you really want me to answer that?”
“You’re right.” I sank further in my seat. “I don’t.”
Freddie sighed. “Thought so.” She reached over to give me an awkward pat on the shoulder. “It’s going to be alright.”
“You sound sooo convincing,” I muttered.
“That was my very best,” my cousin fired back, “so stop complaining.”
“Whatever.” I lowered the menu gloomily. “Let’s just order.”
“Great.” I watched her wave for a server, her relief at not having to deal with my hysterics obvious. Ah, we really were blood related. It totally showed in how emotionally inept we both were.