Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 47615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
And if the weather over there is as hot as it is here right now, it’s no wonder I smell something off.
But when she tells me not to come, again and then again. I’m pretty certain my mind’s already made up.
I’d love to take Jen to the Big Apple and spoil her rotten, but now I have the perfect excuse to have to go.
Abby strangely pleading with me not to.
If only Jen shared my enthusiasm, though. But I can’t help being a little grouchy about how sneaky Abby’s being.
She normally tells me everything.
And I mean everything.
So when I growl for real, cursing at the keyboard as I try to type while I look up flight details, hotels, and a hire car, it’s Jen who makes things clearer for me by offering a few home truths.
“You don’t think she might not want you there for her reasons?” Jen asks, sounding like someone who maybe knows Abby better than I thought I did.
“Like what?” I snap, but Jen doesn’t hold it against me. She can see how worked up this has me.
“It’s just so unlike her to be so…sneaky,” I rasp, using that word again. It’s the only word that matches how sly she’s being.
It’s totally out of character for her.
“And what are we doing?” Jen asks me, point blank. Stopping me in my tracks.
“You don’t think we’re being just a little bit sneaky ourselves?” she asks me again, leaving no doubt what she means by it.
“That’s different,” I huff. Hating it when I’m so transparent.
Hating it more that I know Jen’s right, and I’m only upset with Abby because I know deep down I’m being just as sneaky and aloof as she is. Just for my own reasons.
And she has hers like Jen just said.
“So, what is she doing?” I ask Jen, with nothing but frustration in my tone.
I don’t really expect her to know, but seeing Jen shrug makes me want to get to the bottom of things sooner.
“Did she sound like she was in any sort of trouble?” Jen asks, sounding like the most reasonable one out of the two of us right now.
“No,” I answer hotly. “She sounded…well. She sounded fine.”
“And if she were in any trouble, she’d tell you, right?” Jen asks. Giving me all the questions I should really be asking myself instead of flying off the handle.
Acting like….
Acting like a guy half my age.
I guess Jen's effect runs a little deeper than just having some lead in my pencil for a change.
And having her remind me in her own way that we’re both being just as ‘sneaky’ as I’m accusing Abby of being.
It’s a refreshing burn that actually makes me smile.
Makes me realize why I love Jen so much.
She’s not just a pretty face, and I know I’m going to have my work cut out for me anytime I want to trade arguments over anything.
“So you don’t get the feeling that something’s just not quite right?” I challenge Jen.
“I never said that,” she replies. “I’m just saying you…I mean, we don’t need to go flying across the country if it’s only going to make things worse,” she says firmly.
Chewing at her lip and making me wonder what it is Jen has against going to New York so much.
“So you don’t wanna go with me?” I ask her, not meaning to sound hurt, but I really don’t need the added stress of choosing between her and Abby right now.
Not with this feeling that something’s askew with Abby’s new job.
Jen moves and puts her hand on my arm, defusing all my tension with a single touch, making me smile and murmur, “I’m sorry for being so melodramatic.”
“I do know what you mean, Kane,” she replies. “And I guess I may as well tell you…I’ve never been anywhere like nowhere. And the thought of getting on a plane just scares the shit out of me,” she explains frankly.
Hearing the pieces slot together in my mind, I get it now.
I understand why Jen’s been so uptight every time I mention travel, not just New York.
“Plus, I still don’t have anything,” she adds, reminding me about her current financial situation and her complete lack of luggage for a long trip. Everything is still at her mom’s. And that’s the last place on earth I feel like paying a visit to right now.
“Especially underwear,” Jen murmurs, flushing with embarrassment.
“Underwear?” I exclaim, instantly remembering all the pairs of hers I’ve torn or chewed my way through so far this weekend.
“Oh,” I finally mumble. Joining all the dots. Not wanting to admit in my own mind I’m even capable of it, but there it is.
I guess she does bring out the animal in me, after all. No sense denying it now.
Keeping her in nothing but a T-shirt of mine hasn’t just been for fun either, it seems.