Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Fascination, hunger, humor, a need to talk to this man more.
Yet I didn’t do any of those things.
Instead, I waved at him, not realizing that I’d see him every single day for the next six months during my dual credit history class that the local community college was offering to high school students who wished to start their college degree early.
Luckily, I was one of the five students to do that as a test sample from my school, because if I hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have met the man destined to change my life.
***
“Get out of my car,” I ordered the instant the memories cleared.
Jessie crossed his arms over his chest and stared at me, waiting for something that I couldn’t figure out.
I tried to focus on anything but that wide chest—a chest that’d grown exponentially since the last time I’d seen him.
“Negative,” he denied. “What I want to know is why the hell you’re acting all weird.”
My eyebrows rose.
“Why I’m acting so weird…” I tested the words on my tongue, staring at the man like he had a screw loose. “You’re telling me that you have no clue why I’m acting weird?”
He gave me a look that clearly said what he thought about how loud my words were.
“Why don’t you just go,” I said. “Before I say something I’ll regret, and feel terrible for it later.”
His eyes were dark swirls of melted chocolate that made me want to stare at them forever.
That’s why I looked away and stared out the window at the rain that was sliding down the glass.
“I don’t see why we can’t both exist here and act like nothing ever happened.”
I closed my eyes, hoping he would stop.
He didn’t.
“You’re making it hard to be around my own goddamn club. I’m a fucking member now, and I can’t even go to an outing without worrying about you and how shitty you make me feel.”
How shitty I made him feel.
He had to be joking.
I continued to ignore him, though, hoping against hope that he’d leave if I didn’t open my mouth.
But what he said next had my spine straightening and my face turning red.
“I can’t fuckin’ breathe,” he said. “I’m so scared that I’m going to break you that I can’t even have fun.”
I turned my head slowly and stared at him incredulously.
Then my mouth took over, and the shit I never wanted to voice aloud came out, letting him in on my own personal hell.
“Either get the hell out of my car, or I’ll fucking leave.”
He looked at me like I was a fucking moron.
I wanted to scratch his eyes out with the pointy end of my cell phone charger, but that would likely mean I’d lose my only charger that worked reliably, and he wasn’t worth the trip to Wal-Mart to replace it.
So, instead, I stared at him, fuming inside, while he stared right back.
I don’t know what he saw in my eyes, but whatever it was caused his mouth to tip up at the edges in a semblance of a smile.
“Try your car again,” he said.
I did, staring at him while I reached forward and turned the key.
My car started up, and I wanted to elbow him in the jaw when a mocking smile lit his face.
“See you when I see you.”
Then he was gone, jogging as quickly as he could to his motorcycle that was parked underneath the awning just to the right of the sliding glass doors.
The last thing I saw before he started the bike up and roared away in the pouring rain was the stupid Dixie Wardens leather vest that he’d just recently been given.
Ten minutes later and soaked to the bone, I made it back to my store. The moment I reached the covered sidewalk that started to line the small shopping center, I marched straight past my shop and right into Mr. Frederick’s.
Mr. Frederick owned an antique shop that was incredibly overpriced, but he had some good stuff, and got a lot of business, despite overcharging anyone with opposable thumbs.
The racket that preceded me into his shop had him looking up from whatever he was working on, a clock or something. He stared at me with knowing eyes.
“You changed your mind.”
I lifted up a lip and snarled, “Yes.”
He winked. “Just throw the papers in the trash. Rent’s still due in a week.”
I walked right back out, and stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk where I saw Jessie on his bike, staring at me as I did all my stomping.
I flipped him the bird and fished out my keys.
The moment I was back in my shop, I ripped the first box I came to open with my bare hands, breaking a fingernail in the process, and then screamed.
“Goddammit, Jessie!”
I would not give him the pleasure of leaving and making it easy on him. No sir-ree-bob.