Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“Valid ship of thought.”
“Thank you.”
“Except-”
“No thank you,” leaves me on a headshake. “I like feeling brilliant.”
Nae’s eyeroll is mirth filled. “Stalkers escalate. They tend to start small, taking pictures from a distance. Leaving you love letters on your car windshield. Chalk painting ‘Mine Forever’ on your hotel window-”
“Very specific.”
“-and then they grow. Bolder. And often more forceful.”
“Like trying to murder your wife or kidnap your child.”
“Yeah, but that’s the captain’s seat. They start in the academy.”
“As in if there’s no other proof beside my curiosity, it’s unlikely to be a stalker.”
“Exactly.”
Scrunching my nose occurs prior to me kicking my chin to the chick now pretending to be on a phone call. “So, we don’t think that Voyager extra out there – who has been snapping pics by the way – has anything to do with what happened to me?”
“Highly unlikely.” Nae finally steals a glance of the situation. “We’re clickbait, so anytime we’re seen out together, someone…somewhere…insists on following us around to grab photos for some outlet.”
“Should I let Lurch know?”
“We can let him know on our way out.” She suspiciously smiles in a way I would. “I like when he takes their phones, throws them on the ground, and then curb stomps them while making heavy eye contact.”
Additional laughter has my head tipping slightly backwards.
“What are you in the mood to buy?” My best friend – that I can’t deny feels like it – folds her arms across her chest. “Something for your date tonight? Something for after your date tonight?”
“Something that feels like me.”
Bewilderment scrunches her entire face.
“I was looking in my closet this morning, and I have all these clothes in there that are mine, but they’re not mine. They reflect me but not…me. They’re the me that I was before the incident, the me that I’ve studied since it, but not the me that’s moving forward, that’s not afraid to tell Spock I’m the best and deserve to be on the best assignment.”
“Gahhhh, she was so hot in that moment,” Nae swoons.
“One thousand percent.”
We exchange girlish giggles that are followed by her nodding her comprehension. “And what you’re saying makes total sense. You now needs to connect to the now you.”
“Exactly!”
“Time for a trip to Gemini.”
An excited gasp instantly escapes. “Holyfuck! I still see Gemini?!”
“Why would you ever see anyone else?” my bestie sasses back. “You know the rule. Hairdressers, nail techs, and waxers are self-care doctors. You don’t change that shit unless you’re moving or someone is retiring, which is why I now see Gemini too.” Nae’s eyebrows playfully bounce before she retrieves her phone. “Let’s start there with the whole being you thing because you know what they say…New Hair. New. You.”
Chapter 10
Wes
“Did you just give all your color loving genes to your son, Bruce?” my best friend ponders from his leaning position against the walk-in closet island. “Is that why he wears banana yellow shorts and neon green suspenders while you don the same button up black dress shirt you have since 1949?”
“39,” I correct in tandem with fixing my collar. “Batman’s first appearance occurred in 1939.”
“Yet when I mention some obscure fact about Star Trek – like its registry number or what NCC stands for – you imply it’s a miracle I get laid knowing that type of shit.”
“That doesn’t sound like me.”
“Well, it damn sure doesn’t sound like Bryn. She’s always amazed at how much I didn’t get laid knowing shit like that.”
Unsure if that’s a part of their relationship I miss.
I’m even more unsure if that’s a part of their relationship I should encourage to return.
“You’re nervous,” he amusedly announces, one hand sliding into his navy-blue pant suit pockets.
“I’m…concerned.”
“The rest of us call being ‘concerned’ on a date…nervous.”
It’s impossible not to glare at his reflection in my full-length mirror.
“And according to the text I got from my wife about yours…you should be.”
My eyebrows launch to the ceiling on their own accord. “Why?” There’s no stopping my frame from whirling around to face him. “Is she having second thoughts about us going out? Us…dating? Us…together? Our marriage?”
“Dude, you cannot take that energy to dinner.”
As much as I want to chastise him for calling me dude, I don’t.
I focus on the other portion of his proclamation.
He’s right.
I can’t be this stressed about our date.
I can’t keep playing the number of things that could go wrong through my mind like I need a recap from the rest of this season.
I know what I’m up against.
I know how critical rebuilding our relationship is.
I know I need to trust that she learned to like and love me once…she can learn to do it again.
I know I need to let go a bit.
Breathe.
Remember breath mints.
Mine is typically acceptable but Dai’s Steakhouse does tend to go a little heavy on the garlic.
“Wes,” his frame shifts to one completely upward, “you have gotta relax.” He shoves his free hand into his other pocket. “This isn’t about impressing some rando woman you met at a bar last night that may be ‘the one’. This is simply about showing ‘the one’ that’s already yours how you got that way. Why she chose you.”