Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 84344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“You think you could do me a solid.” I look at Mac as she wags her tail stretching. “And bite my foot off?” She barks at me. “Fine, whatever.” I throw the covers off me and get out of bed. I put the coffee cup on the side table when he comes back into the room, and I shriek, turning, and he yells.
“Oh my God!” he yelps, and then I turn to see him standing, hiding his eyes but then looking. “Jesus, what the fuck? I thought you were naked.”
I put my hand on my tits to cover them. “I am naked,” I retort, and his eyes roam up and down. Okay, fine, I’m not naked, but I suddenly feel naked when I’m around him.
“No, you aren’t. You’re wearing your pjs.” He points at me, and I’m pretty sure that I’ve worn this in front of him a dozen times, but ever since I looked at him differently, things have changed. “You scared the shit out of me.” He laughs. “Let’s go, Mac, and get you something to eat.” He turns and walks out of the room, and Mac follows him.
I grab my phone and rush into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I lean against the closed door and pull up Julia’s name and call her. She answers after three rings. “Hello,” she mumbles.
“Are you sleeping?” I ask her, shocked. “It’s like seven thirty.” Pushing away, I go to start the shower.
“Why the hell are you calling someone, or better yet, anyone before eight?” she asks me grumpily, and I hear her covers rustle in the background.
“I need a huge favor,” I say, my voice going low as I look at the door, wondering if he is in the room eavesdropping.
“Why are you whispering?” she asks me.
“Because I don’t want Dylan to hear me,” I reply, and she laughs. “Anyway, I need you to do me a favor and call me in about twenty minutes and tell me that you are in the hospital.”
“What?” she shrieks. “Are you insane?” I roll my eyes. “Don’t answer that. I know the answer to that one.”
“Dylan wants to go out today,” I share, looking toward the door. “And I’m trying to get out of it.”
She laughs. “And you want me to tell you I’m in the hospital?” Her laughter gets louder. “You know that he talks to Jillian and Michael, right?” I groan.
“Well, then call and tell me that you need me.” I look up at the ceiling. “Like a support phone call or something like that.” I clench my teeth.
“Like a support dog?” she asks me, still laughing.
“Julia,” I hiss, closing my eyes. “You’re smart. Think of something.” My voice goes low. “You have to think of something. I can’t go out with him.”
“Why not?” she asks, and I can hear a cupboard slamming on her side, so I know she’s out of bed and making coffee. “It would be the perfect time to tell him how you feel.”
“Oh, yeah, perfect time. Hey, can you pass the salt, and by the way, I’m in love with you. Are you going to finish your fries?” I put my hand to my stomach, feeling the burning as soon as I say the words out loud again. “I think I’m going to throw up.”
“Alex,” she says softly. “This is Dylan. It’s you and Dylan.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I shriek.
“It means that he knows you, and you know him.” I roll my eyes.
“I doubt he knows I checked out his dick this morning.”
She laughs. “That’s my girl,” she says. “You can either bite the bullet and tell him how you feel or wake him up sucking his dick.”
“Okay, well, thank you for your advice,” I say sarcastically. “You’ve been really helpful.”
“There is no right or wrong answer, Alex.” Her voice stays soft. “When it’s going to be the right time to tell him, you’ll know. But running away from it isn’t going to make it go away.”
“Yes, it will,” I tell her. “I can ignore it until it’s gone.”
She laughs. “Let me know how that works out for you. Text me later.”
I hang up the phone and step into the shower, trying to come up with excuses as to why I can’t go with him. When I get out of the shower, I call Wilson, who answers right away. “Hi, it’s me.”
“Good morning,” he huffs out. “What’s up?”
“Dylan wants me to play hooky,” I say. “Unless you think I should go into work and make sure that …”
I don’t even finish the sentence. “You deserve a day off. Have fun,” he says, and I want to stomp my foot.
“Call me if you need me.” I hang up the phone, looking at myself in the mirror. “It’ll be fine,” I tell my reflection. “It’s just another day.” I fix my hair, turning to slip on my panties and a bra, then stepping into the walk-in closet to grab my favorite pair of jean shorts. They are frayed at the front but hug my hips perfectly and are loose around my legs. I grab a white tank top that comes just above my waistline, showing some skin. Turning to look at myself in the mirror, I grab my white sneakers and sit on the floor, putting them on.