Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
“No, that’s not how it happened.”
“How did it happen?”
I sigh softly, not wanting to replay it. “I proactively told him that I don’t want to have sex outside of a relationship. I’d say he was...confused by that.”
“Was this over dinner?”
“No, it was when we were making out on the couch.”
“Oh.”
“What’s with the tone? You’re making it sound like it’s a totally different story than it would have been if I’d said it over dinner.”
I can tell she’s moved the phone away from her face as she says, “No, it’s in the microwave. Boni steals it off the counter if I leave it out.”
“You made bacon,” I say, remembering Dom’s dog snagging it from the plate every time when we lived there.
“I’m just saying if you guys were partially naked and he was all ready to go and then you said you didn’t want to do anything, I can see how that would confuse him.”
I groan as I pull up to a red light after the car in front of me makes me miss the yellow. “We weren’t naked and you’re doing what I said I don’t want to do. I’ve moved on. I hope Rowan and I can still be friends.”
There’s a moment of silence, and then, “Okay. I just...you guys have always had such great chemistry. Could this have been a misunderstanding?”
Now she’s pissing me off. “Tess. I’m no longer letting men talk me into things I don’t want. Don’t make me deal with it from my own sister.”
“Well, shit. I’m sorry.”
“I have to get my head into work mode. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay, call me tonight.”
“Have a nice day being a trophy wife.”
She cackles. “Suck my tit. I’m volunteering at the women’s shelter today.”
I smile as she ends the call and my radio starts playing over my car speakers. Tess continued working as a waitress for several months after she and Dom moved in together, but he convinced her to quit since they were engaged and soon to be married. I’m happy for her; she busted her ass for years to support her family and she deserves to be the one being taken care of for once.
I thought I wanted that, too. To fall madly in love and maybe even have more kids with my dream man. Finishing my degree, starting my job and buying my house have changed me, though. Finally I’m in complete control of my life. I don’t need help supporting my boys.
Sure, affection would be nice, but I’ve pretty much forgotten about sex. Or I had, anyway, until Rowan kissed me.
He woke something up inside me. And I need it to go back to sleep. I like my stable, predictable life. Dreams don’t have to be grand and exciting. Sometimes, they’re simple—like being able to pay all your bills and having a garage to put your car in when it snows.
When I walk into the work break room thirty minutes later, my coworker Nia is glaring at a box on the counter.
“Philip brought donuts in,” she says flatly.
“Ooh, any apple fritters in there?” I turn to walk over to the box.
“Not only are there no apple fritters, it’s just a few two-day-old glazed grocery store donuts leftover from his kid’s Friday night sleepover.”
She rolls her eyes and I laugh, ditching the donuts and heading for the coffeepot instead. Nia is also a paralegal at the firm, and she’s my closest work friend.
Walking over to me, she lowers her voice. “I don’t get how a partner who makes as much as he does won’t even spring for some fresh fucking donuts once every quarter.”
Philip McGill, one of the firm’s founding partners, is notoriously cheap. He has an iron and an ironing board in a room attached to his office, where he presses his own work shirts between meetings because he refuses to pay for dry-cleaning.
“How was your weekend?” I ask Nia.
“It was really good, actually. Derek and I had the first date night we’ve had in a long time. And Sunday, I got all the laundry done. Like all. Every single thing.”
“Nice.”
“How about you?”
I wrinkle my nose and shrug. “Not the best weekend ever, but it was nice to sleep in. The boys brought me breakfast in bed on Sunday morning and my bed is full of crumbs now.”
Tom comes into the break room. Nia and I both do a double take when we see him.
“You don’t look like an extra for The Walking Dead,” I say. “Did you finally get some sleep?”
He smiles, looking about ten years younger than he did on Friday. “Jeannie’s parents flew in on Saturday to help with the babies for a week. We both got seven continuous hours of sleep Saturday night and again last night. I feel like I could run a marathon right now.”
Nia, his paralegal, gives him a skeptical look. “Maybe you should climb Mount Workload first. We are so behind on the Fielding filing.”