Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 81745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
“Grandma, it was just a picture of him on his couch,” I tell her, and then I do what everyone would do. I zoom in on his chest and move it down to see if you can see any bulges in the shorts, and you can’t. “Why are you sending him a nude shot of yourself?”
“He was baiting me,” she says, huffing out. “Why couldn’t he just get naked with me last night?”
“Grandma, we had this talk this morning,” I tell her, reminding her as I shake my head. She rolled out of bed and came walking out of her room as if the night before hadn’t happened. I sat on the stool, waiting for her to remember, and oh, did she remember. She got her cup of coffee and then sat next to me refreshed, she said. A little stiff but no worse for the wear. “Not everyone is okay with nudity.”
“We are born naked, and we die naked.” She repeats what she told me this morning. “I work hard for my body.”
“No, you don’t,” I tell her. “You have amazing genes. It’s what you’ve been telling me my whole life.”
“Okay, fine.” She finally gives in. “I was born with an amazing body, and I shouldn’t keep it to myself. It’s a gift, and I have to share it with the world.” I close my eyes. “Besides, I was just giving him a peek at what you are going to look like in the future.”
“Grandma, who says I’m going to be with him in the future?” I gasp. “I’m never getting married.”
“You’re still young, so you might change your mind,” she says, and I hear covers rustling. “And if you don’t, well, at least he knows what he’s going to get if he wants to tap that at seventy.”
I laugh. “Thank you for showing him all that.” I close my eyes. “I’ll pick my phone up tomorrow. Do not send anymore nudes.”
“I promise I won’t,” she says. “Unless he asks me for them.” I want to say something, but she laughs. “You have to give the people what they want.”
“Okay, fair,” I say, taking a deep breath. “If he messages you for more, then by all means, give him what he wants.”
“Good night, dear,” she says and disconnects.
I take my iPad and send Miller a message.
Me: Sorry, I forgot my phone at my grandmother’s.
I wonder now if he will even message me back. I mean, let’s be real, I’ve put him through a traumatic event over the past two days. When we were talking on the phone, I almost forgot why I hated him. He made me smile, and talking to him was refreshing. He wasn’t cocky. He was just a guy talking to me. Actually, he really threw me off when he spoke about meaningless sex and how he was over it. I mean, I know he’s no virgin, but it’s good to know he isn’t banging a different chick every night.
I don’t know why I’m sitting on my bed, waiting for him to text me back. I don’t know why I even care that my grandmother sent him a nude. He started it by sending a picture of himself on the couch, smiling. Just last year, he tried to send me a dick pic, and it went to all his contacts. I look down, and the iPad bings.
Miller: Two dates. You owe me two dates. One for every time I saw your grandmother naked. Actually, I might ask her to send me one daily.
I answer him right away.
Me: EWWW, you are a pervert.
Miller: Only for you, gorgeous.
I take a deep breath, and my hands move without me even knowing what is going on.
Me: Fine, you earned it. I will go out with you. One date. That is it.
I put the iPad down and ignore the ping that comes after while I get up to take a shower. What did I just do? I ask myself once the water is raining down over me. Like what in the ever fuck did you just do, and why? This is a horrible idea, completely horrible. It’s going to make things muddy. After I finish in the shower, I towel off and slide into bed. I look at my hands and then the iPad and then my hands again. “Don’t do it,” I tell myself, but my head is not really listening to me these days, so I press the middle button and see the text from him on the top line.
Miller: Gorgeous, that’s all I need to show you how much you actually like me.
Don’t answer him. Don’t answer him. Don’t. Answer. Him.
Me: Or it’ll push me over the edge, and I never talk to you.
I look at it and think about it and then erase it, shaking my hands out. “What the hell, Layla?”