Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“Who is it,” he mouths.
“My ex.”
A funny glint hits Damon’s eye. He dons his headphones and strides to the front door.
I don’t want to give myself away making an attempt to escape, so . . . quietly listening in from the couch, it is.
“Oh, hello.” Karl. Sounding more than pleasantly surprised at the half naked gladiator answering the door. I roll my eyes. “Didn’t mean to disturb you. I thought Leon would be here?”
“He’s not in. Can I take a message?”
“Do you mind if I wait? His car’s here and he’s always home by six.”
I scowl towards the fish bowl. Unbelievable.
Damon says, “He won’t be in tonight. He has a date. Better try again tomorrow.”
A date?
“A date?”
Hey, only I’m allowed to be incredulous!
Karl speaks again, and his tone has completely one-eightied. “So you and him aren’t . . .”
“No.”
Karl laughs. “That would be . . . I’m surprised he has a date at all, to be honest. But good on him. I hope it works out.”
I’m crushing Damon’s poor shirt in my balled hands.
“Anyway, I’ll be in Kōpuha Bay all weekend.” There’s something about the way he says that . . .
“I’ll be sure to let him know.”
“Any things you recommend to do around here?”
Jesus. I yank out my phone and wildly text. Damon’s phone dings with my message: he’s flirting with you???
My phone vibrates and I switch to silent mode in a panic.
Damon: He’s even batting his lashes.
Damon gives Karl a touristy list of things to see, and I whip off another message.
Laughter bounces through the house, followed by Damon’s “Got to love a cheeky friend. Where was I? Oh, things to do. You have to try Jonny’s hair saloon. It’s infamous.”
A flirty giggle. “Haircut it is.”
A few seconds later the door shuts and at the sound of wheels hitting the road outside, Damon returns to the living area. “Jonny’s hair saloon?”
“Yeah, don’t cross me.”
“Oh I learned that lesson. Whatever happened to my clothes by the way?”
“They’re sitting in my closet in Wellington.”
“You kept them?”
“Call me sentimental.”
He rubs his nape. “What did you see in him, Leon?”
“He can be charming. And . . .” I swallow. “I’m a creature of habit? Where’s that tea you were offering?”
Damon moves into his room and returns pulling on a nice button-up. “When I suggested tea, I actually meant dinner. How about it?”
“Are you cooking?”
“Can’t be shagged for that. Let’s go out. Unless you’re worried about Karl spotting us?”
Interestingly . . . I’m not. “If he does, you wouldn’t have lied about the date part.” I start unbuttoning my pyjama top. “Actually, being with you will do a lot for my seriously deflated ego.”
He picks up the megaphone from the couch. “There’s something I’d like you to do for me.” He clutches the trigger and “Please” is amplified.
I hesitate.
“Take this.”
I’m only in PJ bottoms, but it’s not exactly cold in here right now. I take it.
“Press the trigger.”
I press.
“Now say I’m a catch.”
My “Seriously, Damon?” echoes through the megaphone; I turn it off.
“Not I’m a catch. Say after me: I’m. A. Catch!”
“I’m a catch?”
“That’s it. But like you believe it.”
I don’t know what’s gotten into him. I mumble towards Fidget, “I’m a catch.”
“Now with the megaphone.”
“You’re talking to the guy who bought eighty milks because he couldn’t speak up to correct a misunderstanding.”
Damon grins, lopsided with a hint of devilish. “Is that what happened?”
I spare him a warning look and set the megaphone on the bookshelf.
The local’s full and thriving on a Friday night, and we’re lucky to score a corner table. In summer the massive glass wall before us opens out onto the beach, but today—and I imagine most of the autumn—it’s closed against a westerly.
We’ve devoured our way through a shared pizza when I overhear my name a couple of pot plants down.
“I happen to think Leon is a very interesting guy.” I recognise Tai’s voice and smile towards my last slice of pizza—
Another familiar voice. A raspy one. “If Leon is an interesting dude, then my ninety-year old nana should put herself back on the market.”
Damon’s eyes jerk up to meet mine, and suddenly his grow steely. He bolts to his feet and shoves pot plants aside with his foot, one by one. “Wyatt, stop being an insensitive prick.”
Patrons are turning their heads and I’m flushing so hard my face is starting to sting. I slept with Wyatt the summer after Damon, just before I met Karl. I don’t want a scene. I hop to my feet, make the painful walk past busy tables and touch Damon’s arm. “Let’s go.”
Damon’s eyes are still narrowed on the black-clad man before him, but at another tug on his arm he reluctantly follows me.
“Bedtime anyway, no doubt,” Wyatt murmurs.
It’s too much. On the heels of . . . everything. I turn around. “If you do pimp out your nana, then . . . then . . . then I’ll date her.” Not quite the comeback I’d hoped for. Damon, Wyatt, Tai and half the town are looking at me, baffled. “Because, then, like . . .” Quit while you’re ahead, Leon. “I could say she’s a better lay than you are.”