Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 135378 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135378 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Dylan turns around to flip us off as he backs into the street.
I fantasize about a bus hitting him Regina George style, but sadly, it doesn’t happen.
“What horrendous manners that boy has,” Hugh remarks.
I crack a smile and look over at him. Hugh has a lean build, so I definitely didn’t expect him to go all bodyguard. “You’re kind of a badass, Hugh.”
Hugh smiles, his chest puffing up with pride. “I’m trained in evasive driving techniques as well, though hopefully you’ll never have need of those.”
“Does Silvan’s family have a lot of enemies or something? I thought you were just a driver.”
“Men in families like Master Silvan’s always have enemies, Miss Bradwell.” Turning and reaching for the door handle, he says, “Shall I?”
I nod and thank him, so he opens the door.
Mom waits inside, wide-eyed. “What the hell was that?”
Trying for glib, I tell her, “I don’t like surprises as much as you do.”
She continues to stare at me, but when I don’t offer another word and I take out my phone, she seems to take the hint that I’m not going to expand upon that thought.
My phone vibrates and a text from Silvan appears on the screen. It reads, “Having a good time with your mom?”
My heart jolts, and I glance up front to see if it looks like Hugh has told on me, but I can’t tell. All I know is Silvan hasn’t checked up on me before now. I thought he was letting me enjoy time with my mom uninterrupted.
“Yes,” I type back cautiously. “Thanks again.”
“Anytime.”
I swallow, waiting a second to see if he types anything else. When he doesn’t, I ask, “Are you still in New York?”
“Yeah. About to catch a show with my mom before we head back.”
“On Broadway? That sounds like fun.”
“I’ll have to bring you sometime.”
I’d like that.
My fingers freeze when I realize the thought that just flitted through my mind.
No, I would not. Am I crazy?
Shaking my head to clear it, I try to think what to type back, then I decide I should probably type nothing.
I need to stop talking to him. He’s making me feel strangely comfortable with this profoundly dysfunctional relationship he’s trying to lure me into, and I need to put a stop to it before it goes any deeper.
I can’t bring myself to cut off the conversation at such an unnatural place, though, so I type back, “We’re heading to dinner now, so I should probably go.”
“Okay,” he responds. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”
“You too,” I answer politely, without thought.
“I will,” he answers with a winky face.
My eyes narrow with suspicion, but I suppose he was only responding in kind. Maybe the wink is because I was being polite to him when he knows I shouldn’t have been. Sometimes it occurs to me a moment too late.
My rationalization makes sense to me, but I still feel uneasy as I tuck the phone away inside the new Marc Jacobs purse I bought myself at the first store we stopped at.
“Everything okay?” Mom asks.
I look up, startled.
For a second, I completely forgot she was in the car with me.
Silvan has a way of making the rest of the world melt into the background when he has my attention.
“Yeah,” I lie, trying to feign nonchalance. “Everything’s fine.”
___
After a delicious dinner, Silvan has one last surprise for us.
Expecting Hugh to take us home, I tell him I’ll just stay the night at Mom’s so he only has to make one stop, but rather than going to Mom’s house, he takes us to a movie theater where Silvan has rented out one of the screens.
Mom and I get drinks and a small popcorn to share, and then we go to our own private screening of the first episode of the season of The Last Kingdom that we haven’t watched yet.
I can’t help but grin when Uhtred comes on the screen, memories of my own crazy Viking stirring to mind. I fight the urge to grab my phone and text him even though we’re the only ones in the theater, so it’s not like I’d be disturbing anyone’s viewing experience.
As soon as we’re back in the car, I dig out my phone and text Silvan.
“You rented out a theater for me.”
His response comes promptly. “I thought it might be more your speed. You’ve given the impression you’re not fond of crowds.”
He’s right, I’m not.
I can’t believe he’s figured that out about me already, though. In more than a year, my mom hasn’t figured that out. My roommates don’t get it at all.
I just met him, and he already gets it.
I’ve never met anyone who paid such close attention to me.
“Thank you,” I type.
“You’re welcome. Did you and your mom enjoy the show?”
“Very much. I don’t remember telling you where we were on our watch, though. How’d the guy know which season to play?”