Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
She trails off, probably because I can’t fight the big, happy, goofy grin stealing across my face. I know it doesn’t make sense when she’s spilling her damage out, but I heard something that means too much to me to hide. “You want to date me?” I tease, purposefully making my voice lighter than the situation calls for because what she revealed is heavy for Dani, and I can help her carry it. If she’ll let me. And the only way that’ll happen is if I don’t make her sit in the dark past but promise a brighter now and a happier later.
She stares at me in surprise. “I said ‘maybe be okay dating you’, emphasis on the maybe.”
“You love me. I knew it.” I nod cockily.
“I do not.”
Her mouth is arguing with me, but her eyes are flashing with laughter, which is exactly what I wanted, so I hold my hands up, surrendering. “Okay, way too soon for that, but you don’t hate me. One might even say you…. lllll… What’s that word? Like?”
She arches a brow, glaring at my playful prompting. Finally, she rolls her eyes and admits, “Fine, I like you. A little.” But she’s smiling too as she holds her finger and thumb up a skinny inch apart to show how itty-bitty her like for me is. But it’s a total lie. She’s got to be at least halfway, maybe more, gone for me, which still means she’s well behind me, but I’ll take it as good progress.
“Say it again.”
“What? That you might not be as much of an asshole as I first thought?” She’s trying her damnedest to add a little spit and vinegar to the words, but she fails spectacularly because all I hear is she likes me.
“That’ll do it.” I pointedly adjust myself in my athletic shorts so she knows the effect her sweet nothings are having on me, and Dani scoffs, muttering something unflattering about men thinking with their dicks. “Seeing you get all jealous over me with another woman was hot as fuck, woman. Trust that I’ll never give you a reason to actually be jealous, though.”
I make sure to say that solid and clear, no hint of a tease. I want her to hear the truth in my words and believe them because I mean it, one hundred percent.
“You’re a mess,” she says, but it sounds like a compliment, not an insult. “What’s worse is that I’m a bigger mess than you are.” That part is definitely self-deprecating, but Dani is not a mess, not by a long shot. She has her shit together probably more than anybody I know, taking care of not only herself, but her parents in ways I’m not sure they even realize. She might be a little off-balance right now, thanks to yours truly, but I think—or at least hope—that’s a good thing to her, because it is to me.
“Tacos are a mess too, and everybody loves them. Also, did you know that if you put another tortilla down when you’re eating a taco, the fillings that fall out will land on that second tortilla and boom, another taco?” I hold up an imaginary taco to demonstrate. “Wanna know something else? Which way you tilt your head when you eat a taco tells a lot about you? Are you a leftie or a rightie?”
She narrows her eyes, skeptical, but responds, “Right.”
I nod like I’m considering her answer for deep insights into her character. “That’s a good way. My favorite is right up the center, though.” I stick my tongue out, flicking the tip in the air like I’m mid-oral sex.
Dani’s eyes widen in shock, and then she bursts out laughing. I don’t think she expected that at all.
I lean toward her. “Now that I’ve reminded you why you love me… I mean like…” I wink at her dramatically. “What’re you doing today? Other than an infamous, probably already viral on social media Costco trip, I mean. Like, are you busy?”
“Are you trying to get me back to your place? Now?”
I wasn’t, but it’s not a half-bad idea. I might even venture that it’s an all-good one. “Always. But I actually have something else I need to do today, and I thought you might like to come along.”
“Am I dressed okay?”
She’s wearing black leggings that show every luscious curve, an oversized T-shirt with a tiger on it, and her work tennis shoes. Her hair is up in its usual bun, and her face is bare. She’s dressed for hauling bags of rice and beans, not going on a date, but it’s perfect for what I have in mind.
“You look gorgeous, as always. But I need to get my truck and Peanut Butter, so can we run by my house?”
Her angry glare returns instantly. “That’s the biggest line I’ve ever heard.” She throws her voice low, imitating some guy that sure as shit isn’t me, “Oh, yeah, just one little stop, it’ll be super-fast… come on in for a second and then we’ll go.”