Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 91079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
This motherfucker…
I’m not Vivian. He’s not Edward. This isn’t Pretty Woman. This is a story about a writer who found her muse. Her That Guy. Who ended up falling in love. Running from love. And, of course, trusting that love would come chasing after her.
Totally cliché.
And every bit as real as any story can be.
But our story doesn’t end with the words, and they lived happily ever after. And it sure as shit doesn’t end with some lame ass line about how she rescues him right back. Matter of fact, there are no words at all. Because words can’t express the love and shit we feel between us.
So I pull away and give my That Guy what he wants—the beginning of our future and the ending of this story in true Penelope fashion.
Finger snap.
Finger guns.
River dance.
Epilogue
Cam
Love is an enigma.
You never know when. You never know who. You never know how.
It just happens.
Thank fuck it’s never happened to me.
I can’t imagine being the pussy-whipped, cloud-floating, emasculated, river dancing vagina Jake has become. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy he’s happy. But I miss the days when he used to walk away when Penelope called. Or at the very least, cover his mouth in an attempt to shield me from the you hang up first, no you hang up first bullshit banter between the two of them. It gave me hope that my friend still had his balls.
But it’s been three months since he confessed his love to his woman in a bar somewhere down in Mississippi. Now, he doesn’t even try to be a man. And I’m pretty fucking sure if he does still have any balls, they’re not hanging below his dick. They’re tucked neatly inside Penelope’s purse so she can take them out and squeeze them whenever she feels the need to remind him who’s in charge.
Shit’s gotten so bad that I look forward to the days when they fight.
Like today.
“For fuck’s sake, Penelope. I said no.”
In the quiet of the car, I can hear her response clearly through the phone.
“You have plenty of money. It’s not like you’re poor.”
“No. I’m not poor. Because I go to work every day. And I do have plenty of money. But I won’t if you keep trying to give it away.”
“If I don’t make good on my promise to God and he makes me die a horrible death, that’s on you. Until then, me and my vagina will be in the guest room.”
“Don’t say vagina—” He stares down at his phone. “She fucking hung up on me.”
“Imagine that.”
“She claims she made a deal with God and now she has to give money to charity. My money. And she thinks everyone is a charity case. Right now, she’s trying to give one of my Rolexes to Alfred. Do you have any idea how much I pay that old man? Trust me. He can buy his own fucking Rolex.”
“So did she give him the Rolex?”
He sighs. “Probably. She’s always doing crazy shit like this behind my back.”
I laugh. As much as I’d hate to deal with a girl like Penelope on a regular basis, I can’t deny that she’s perfect for Jake. He needed someone to ground him. She needed someone to love her. The two of them could play the leading roles in one of those Boy-meets-girl-love-at-first-sight-romance-novel-turned-movie.
“Did I tell you that her and my grandfather went to play laser tag last week? Fucking laser tag. He’s never done shit like that with me.”
I look away. “I had no idea.”
“You went too, didn’t you?”
“Maybe…”
“You son of a bitch.”
“What? It was Penelope’s idea. And say what you want, but that girl is fun to hang out with. We would’ve invited you but you’re too competitive. Nobody wants to play with a sore loser, Jake.”
“You probably helped talk her into begging me to go to Africa too, didn’t you?”
I shake my head. “Hell no. You were right. Penelope in Africa would be a complete clusterfuck.”
“Good. Because she’s not going. I put my foot down with that one.”
I snort. “Yeah. Clearly you run shit.”
The car comes to a stop in front of Jake’s apartment all too soon. “And, just so you know, I’m not looking forward to entertaining myself while you spend the next five minutes fighting with Penelope. And then the next hour having make up sex. But we have business to handle this evening that can’t wait. Or else I’d let you go in alone and find my own woman to piss off just so I could fuck her until she forgot why she was mad in the first place.”
“We’re not having make-up sex.”
“That’s what you always say.”
“I mean it this time.”
“Sure you do.”
“I’m going to propose.”
My hand stills on the door.
Wasn’t expecting that.
Jake pulls something from his pocket. When he opens the velvet box in his hand, I have to squint against the light reflecting off the biggest goddamn rock I’ve ever seen. I lift a brow and meet his gaze. “You sure about this?”