Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
And it is lovely, nearly as lovely as watching bad reality TV on the couch together after we’ve changed into our pajamas. Sam puts his arm around me and draws me close, the way he used to when we were kids, but everything feels so different.
As kids, Sam’s arms didn’t make me sizzle or ache. They were a refuge from the big, scary world. They still feel that way, but they also feel…electric, and when he kisses me goodnight at Cam’s bedroom door, all I want to do is follow him inside and keep kissing him.
And then he rumbles against my lips, “Want to sleep here? We can just sleep and snuggle, no pressure for anything else. I just…don’t want to say goodnight.”
I don’t, either. I really, really don’t.
But if I stay, I won’t just sleep and snuggle. If I stay, my clothes are going to come off. Hell, I’m about five seconds from stripping down and pouncing on Sam like a starving mountain lion right now and we’re still a good five feet from the bed.
So instead of giving my traitorous body what it wants, I step back, toss the extra pillow I grabbed from my room at his chest and ask, “Want me to bring you a glass of water before I head to bed? Night thirst is the worst.”
Gripping the pillow in one big hand, he shakes his head with a knowing smile. “No, thanks. I’m good. But feel free to come crawl in with me if you change your mind. You have a standing invitation to any bed I’m in, Cho. Anytime, anywhere.”
“Good to know,” I say before fleeing to my room and closing the door.
But it isn’t good. It’s…dangerous.
Nearly as dangerous as this crush I’m developing on my former best friend.
CHAPTER TEN
Sam
The next morning, I wake from a dream of Jess and reach for the other side of the bed, only to remember her decision to sleep in her room. Which was probably for the best considering all the things I haven’t figured out how to tell her.
I sag back against the pillows, my heart sinking into my squirming guts.
Reaching for my phone, I shoot Jack a quick text—Hey, you up?
After just a few seconds, he shoots back—It’s six-thirty on a Sunday, of course I’m up. These quarterly reports aren’t going to finish themselves.
Sam: You work too much.
Jack: Said the pot to the kettle. What are you up to this morning? Acquiring another company? Funding experimental energy creation? Writing your first memoir because if you leave the memoir writing until you’re older, the book will be fatter than the Bible and offend those of us who wasted the first twenty-five years of our lives being snot-nosed children and beer-guzzling young adults? Or are you wisely taking a day of rest after bruising your kidney in a daring cat rescue?
Sam: Actually…I’m at Jess’s.
Jack: The Fuck?
Sam: Stop it. You’re worried about nothing. If a conflict of interest arises, I’ll handle it.
Jack: No, I meant “the fuck” as in, was that what you were up to last night? Hence the question mark.
Sam: No. Not that I would kiss and tell, but nothing happened. She just wanted to keep an eye on me, make sure I didn’t have any complications after getting run over.
Jack: Nice. It sounds like she cares. I guess that’s a good sign, if you still want to date this woman who you’re offering a job under shady circumstances, and who will likely be pissed when she finds out you’ve been fudging the truth about how involved you are with Paradisus.
Sam: That’s not the only thing I’m still fudging the truth about. I may have let her assume that I’m also a virgin, a second time…
Jack: *wide-eyed emoji* *head-exploding emoji* *weeping emoji*
Sam: Emojis. Great. I was hoping to get some advice before you lost your shit.
Jack: You know my advice. Spill your guts. Immediately. Tell her the truth about everything and let her decide if she still wants anything to do with you. You owe it to her. She shouldn’t accept a job—or your dick—under false assumptions. That’s scoundrel behavior, and I’ve never known you to be a scoundrel.
Sam: With any other woman, I’d agree, but you don’t know Jess. If she finds out I’m the man behind Paradisus, she won’t take the interview. She’ll assume I’m pulling strings because we used to be friends and take herself out of the running. And if I tell her I’m not a virgin, she’ll feel even more awkward about still being one herself. I’m trying to spare her gross feelings and give her a shot at a fantastic job opportunity. That’s the opposite of scoundrel behavior.
Jack: If that’s true, then she needs therapy, not lies. If she has such a poor opinion of herself, that’s something she needs to address with a professional and none of your business.