Total pages in book: 186
Estimated words: 178688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 893(@200wpm)___ 715(@250wpm)___ 596(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 178688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 893(@200wpm)___ 715(@250wpm)___ 596(@300wpm)
A roar of laughter fills the room. “I’ve been trying to talk him into it. Might be able to find him a girlfriend or something. Plus, I think he’d help me sell more clothes being Mr. Eye Candy.”
I shake my head. “You’re relentless with this. It’s not happening.”
Gemma’s grin falters. I narrow my eyes at my sister, knowing she’s trying to gauge Gemma’s reaction. I’m not stupid and can see straight through it. Plus, after the way Gemma acted about Katie and me, I know it makes her uncomfortable.
“I don’t need a girlfriend,” I say around a mouthful.
“Why not?” Everleigh questions. “I’m sure you don’t want to be single for the rest of your life. Plus, I want to be an auntie someday.”
I fill my mouth full of garlic bread, giving myself time to think about my next words.
“I won’t be. I’ll eventually find someone, but that doesn’t mean I’m searching. I’m a firm believer that you find the right person for you when you least expect it. In layman's terms, I’m not searching for love.”
Everleigh lifts her almost empty glass. “Cheers to being alone forever.”
Gemma doesn’t join her toast, so I do, just to appease Everleigh. I can’t leave her hanging. The room grows silent as we eat, but Everleigh speaks up, keeping the conversation moving.
“When are you available to model again?” she asks Gemma.
“Whenever you want,” she tells her. “It was a lot of fun.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that. I’ll need to get with Katie too, and we can make it a night. It’ll be a blast when the fall clothes come in.”
Once our bowls are empty, I stand to clean the kitchen. Everleigh and Gemma continue chatting as I rinse the dishes, then load the dishwasher. A moment later, Everleigh returns with a spare blanket and pillows for Gemma.
Everleigh yawns and tells Gemma good night. Before walking to her room, Everleigh flashes me a smirk, and I know she’s up to something. Once she’s gone, it’s just Gemma and me, and the awkward tension nearly chokes me.
“Will you watch a movie with me?” she asks, and I look at the clock and see it’s past ten.
“Yeah, sure,” I say, knowing I shouldn’t, but I can’t say no to her. After the day she’s had, I don’t want her to be alone either. We sit on the couch, and I hand her the remote. “You choose.”
“Really?” Gemma acts surprised.
“Why not? It was your idea.” I glance over at her, and she seems to be thinking about something else before she flips through the channels.
She settles on You’ve Got Mail with Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan from the 90s. “This okay?”
“It’s perfect,” I say, not really caring as long as I get to spend time with her. I shouldn’t get excited to see her and be close to her, but I can’t help it. She’s only a few inches away, and by the way she tenses, I think she notices too.
I finally laugh and shake my head.
“What?” She looks at me.
“It feels like old times when we’d stay up late and watch a movie together on your couch. I’d supply the booze and hope your dad didn’t burst into the cottage and catch us.” I chuckle and watch as she tucks loose strands of hair behind her ear.
She nods. “Yeah, it is kinda like that, isn’t it? Except now we don’t have to sneak in the alcohol.” She hiccups and covers her mouth with a giggle, which makes me smile. “Too much tequila. Everleigh makes them strong.”
“Adulting at its finest.”
We get to the part in the movie where Meg Ryan goes to the bookstore that’s going to ruin her business, and Gemma puts her hand over her heart as she intently watches the scene unfold. Though I’m certain she’s seen this, her reactions are cute. Honestly, she’s more interesting than this movie, but I force myself to focus on the screen. Even if it’s hard as hell.
She repeats the lines, and I snort. Why does she have to be so fucking adorable? It makes keeping her at a distance so damn hard—harder than I ever thought was possible.
When Gemma bites her bottom lip, I’m tempted to pull her into my arms and kiss the fuck out of her. Kiss her worries away. Tell her she doesn’t have to marry that douchebag if she doesn’t want to, that she shouldn’t. But I don’t want to send her mixed signals. While I wish she were mine, I’d inevitably fuck it up again. She’s too good for Robert, but if I’m being honest, she’s too good for me, too.
Gemma would do anything for anyone, and she loves with every part of her being. Robert wanting her to quit her job because of me nearly has a blood vessel bursting, but I bury the anger and keep my feelings to myself. Something I’ve perfected over the years.