Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
I did, but I was scared. Preston was the only real boyfriend I’d had. Was I ready for another relationship so soon? And with my ex’s dad?
Greg’s posture softened. “Talk to me.”
“I do, but . . .” My gaze dropped to his feet as I finally gave up fighting what I knew was unavoidable. My voice was small. “We have to tell Preston.”
When he moved, Greg’s shadow joined mine on the tile floor. “We do.” His hand covered mine resting on the countertop, and he used it to slowly lead me into his embrace. I could sense his gaze on me, and it forced my attention back up to him. “I thought I was going to have to fight you on this.” His dark, deep eyes studied me, gauging my feelings. “I was thinking I’ll do it next weekend. You’ll both be heading back to school, so it will give him some space right after.”
It made sense. It’d probably be easier for Preston to get through his feelings if he didn’t have to see his dad every day, or at least live under the same roof.
“Shouldn’t I be the one to tell him?” He was my ex, and until recently, had been my best friend.
Greg shook his head. “I need to do it. He’s going to be . . . upset.”
“Do you want me there when you—”
“No. I’d like to explain it to him alone. That way he can focus on me instead of you.”
I tugged my eyebrows together and pressed my lips into a line. He wanted to spare me from Preston’s anger and take the blame, but that wasn’t fair. We hadn’t planned on getting involved, Greg and I had just . . . happened. I didn’t like him having to do this on his own, but he was older and wiser, not to mention Preston’s dad. Their relationship was the most important thing in Greg’s life. I had to trust him to know what was right.
“You’re sure?” I asked reluctantly.
“Yes.”
“Okay,” I said. “I don’t like it, but if you think that’s best—okay.”
He gave a slight smile. “Good. I’ll feel better when it’s done. No more hiding.”
I shot him a funny look. “Who’s hiding? You told someone you have a girlfriend. Who were you talking to?”
“Chief of surgery. I was asking him to clear my calendar for Wednesday.”
My breath caught, but I hoped he didn’t notice. Did he know? “What’s Wednesday?”
His expression was coy, and good lord, he was sexy as sin like that. “Someone’s birthday.” He dropped a quick kiss on my lips. “I should tell you, twenty is the worst birthday.”
I was stunned. Preston was terrible at dates and usually forgot. Even when he remembered, it felt like a last-minute scramble. He wasn’t one to look ahead in his calendar. But Greg? He probably had alerts programmed into his phone, and the idea that one of them included me made my heart flutter.
“Do you have plans?” he asked.
I draped my arms over his shoulders and pulled him close. “I do now.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
GREG DIDN’T TAKE ME TO THE RESTAURANT my mother had suggested, thankfully. We went to a fancy chef’s table place in Music Row, where the entire dining room consisted of long tables arranged in a square around the open kitchen. Diners sat on the outside, watching the show as the two chefs prepared the different courses and plated them to look like art.
The food was amazing, but the company at my side was even better. Greg wore a charcoal gray suit without a tie, and a white dress shirt with the top few buttons undone. He looked every bit the part of confident, rich doctor during the drive over in his BMW, his expensive wristwatch gleaming in the early evening sun.
I smoothed my palms down the floral dress I’d borrowed from Lilith, that was just a little too sexy and formal to call a sundress. The spaghetti strap top was simple black, cinched at the waist, but gave way to a flowing skirt patterned with cream-colored flowers. She’d also lent me a pair of gorgeous black heels, where the straps crisscrossed around my ankles and made me feel like a bombshell.
That was, until I was seated beside him in the car, heading toward dinner. My forty-year-old boyfriend was undeniably sexy, so what the hell was he doing with a barely twenty-year-old girl? I loved that he wanted to take me out, but I dreaded it at the same time. What kind of looks were we going to get from everyone at the restaurant?
Huh.
No one batted an eye at us.
Maybe my makeup and sexy dress gave me enough of an edge to look older. I had a fake ID in my purse I’d gone back and forth on bringing. Preston and I, along with a group of our friends, had bought them last semester from a shady website which I was certain was a scam, but a month later a package from China arrived at Preston’s dorm. An innocuous teddy bear with six expert fake IDs stuffed inside.