Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
He raised his glass to mine. “To well-made plans,” he said with a smile.
_________
Carson
Grace’s eyes shined as she looked around at all the sights. I loved it. I wanted to show her more. I wanted to give her all the experiences I could. I wanted to watch her big, blue eyes widen with awe, not just at the things I could do to her body, but with all the experiences she had deprived herself of for so long. I wanted to show her things she’d never seen before. I wanted to take her snowboarding on a mountain at twilight, I wanted to worship her body in the bright sunshine on a beach somewhere exotic. For the first time in my life, I felt like I had something to offer other than just the physical. But the wanting felt like a double-edged sword—it made me feel alive in a way I’d never felt alive before, but it filled me with regret to know that I could never have any of it with this girl.
But maybe the wanting of it in and of itself was a good thing. Maybe Grace had opened my eyes to the possibility that I could be more, that life could be more. Something about that filled me with a feeling I couldn’t identify in that moment—something I’d think about later.
We ordered dinner and Grace smiled across the table at me. “So, Carson,” she said, “should I trust you to take me hiking out in the desert all alone? I’m not going to mysteriously disappear tomorrow morning, am I?”
I chuckled. “Not because I’m planning on burying you in a shallow grave, but there is a real risk of me pouncing on you like a desert hyena because you’re irresistible.”
She laughed. “I guess the authorities could trace me by following the trail of torn and discarded clothes?”
I took a sip of wine. I never drank wine. But tonight seemed to call for it. “And the scream of my name echoing through the canyons,” I said. God I loved to hear Grace scream my name. There was nothing like it.
She cleared her throat. “Speaking of which, should we stay in my room tonight? It hasn’t even been used.”
“No, I decided I like having you in my room.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Something about having you in my lair.”
She rolled her eyes. “More like your sex den, desert hyena.”
I laughed. “I like that even better.”
Our food came—I had ordered the ribeye and Grace had ordered the salmon. We ate quietly for a few minutes. “Mmmm, this is fantastic,” Grace moaned.
“Do you go out to eat a lot?” I asked.
“No, rarely. I have a scholarship that pays my expenses too, but there’s not a lot left over at the end of the month.” She shrugged. “I don’t have a lot of time to do anything except study anyway. It’ll pay off.” She took a drink of her wine, looking over the rim at me.
“I’m sure it will,” I said. “What’s your law focus anyway?” I cut a piece of meat and speared it and stuck it in my mouth.
“Corporate law.”
“God, that sounds about as exciting as the patented burp of the Tupperware container.”
She laughed. “What?”
“My granny used to say that. I suddenly understood what she meant.”
She brought her hand to her mouth as she swallowed the sip of water she’d just taken. “Corporate law is actually very interesting.”
“Oh yeah? What’s interesting about it?”
She looked up, thinking for a minute. She opened her mouth, and then shut it, finally letting out a small laugh. “Nothing. There’s nothing interesting about it at all.”
“Then why did you choose it?”
She sighed. “My dad works in the criminal justice system. He sees all the stuff that goes down every day with prosecutors and defense attorneys…all the BS they have to deal with, all the awful stories they hear. I asked for his advice and he thought corporate law would be a good, safe, solid career choice.” She played with the food on her plate for a moment.
“So… your dad chose it, huh?”
“Carson,” she said, laying her fork down. “This isn’t all about me pleasing my dad. It was also about asking someone who has a lot of experience in the field to guide and direct me, that’s all.”
“Hmmm…okay, so if you hadn’t had your dad to guide and direct you, what would you have chosen?”
She looked at some distant point beyond my shoulder, a small frown tilting her lips. “I’d really like to be a prosecutor,” she said quietly, lowering her gaze, her cheeks turning pink and shame filling her expression, like she had just admitted that she wanted to eat my liver with a fine Chianti.
I nodded, but she remained quiet. I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable with this line of questioning, and so I changed the subject. “So Las Vegas is known for its nightclubs. Do you wanna go to one after dinner?”