Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 92070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
"Is he American?" Archie asks.
"He was born in the States," I say. "But he grew up here. Well, in Madrid. He was fluent in Spanish and English, but he didn't know Spanish the way my mom did. She has the ear of a poet."
"You're fluent enough to notice?" Archie asks.
"No." I know the language, but I'll always think in English. "I hear from friends of theirs. They had different ideas about what was important. I don't think it's that he's a bad guy, exactly."
Dare raises a brow.
"He's not." Yes, my dad isn't Father of the Year, and he's really not (ex) Husband of the Year, but he's not a monster either. He tries.
"I didn't say anything," Dare says.
He doesn't have to say anything. We both know the situation. "You don't like him."
"It's not that." It's not that Dare doesn't like the guy. It's something more. "I just don't think he's around enough."
I can't argue with that. "Dad wanted me to live the American dream. Mom saw more value in the arts, in doing something uniquely mine." And, sure, after the divorce, Dad moved far away and let Mom do most of the child-raising, but it wasn't an act born out of neglect. It was his old-school upbringing.
Don't get me wrong. I don't excuse his behavior, exactly, but I don't curse it anymore either. He is who he is. And I know exactly how much I can count on him.
"What about you?" Archie asks.
"Do you want to live the American dream?"
"Does anyone our age believe in the American dream?" I ask.
Dare shakes his head no way and changes the subject. "Are you excited to start school in the fall?"
"I am." And scared. But no need to focus on two overwhelming things at once. "I can't wait. I know it's going to be hard, and I am worried about that."
The guys share a look. Something at my expense. Or about me. They've already been talking about me.
I ignore the what the fuck question that forms in my mind. "But I just want to learn, you know?" My cheeks flush. "I sound like a real nerd, don't I?"
"You are," Dare says. "Why hide it?"
"It's cute," Archie agrees.
My blush deepens.
The server returns with a carafe of water and three tiny glasses.
"You want to share two things?" Dare asks.
"Depends on the two," I say.
"A salad and a pasta?" he asks.
"The Caesar and the Bolognese?" I ask.
"What else?" he asks.
Archie looks at us, a little lost, and orders a cheese pizza (personal size, of course, a la all Italian restaurants in Europe).
I ask the server to bring everything at once.
No one orders a drink. Archie isn't a big drinker, I'm way too tired (I might crash right here after three sips), and Dare is always a "gentleman" with his orders. He orders the same drink as his partner in fun for the evening. Or at least a similar drink.
For all his talk about sleeping around, he's always a gentleman with me.
Is he the same on his dates?
Is he sleeping with all the women he sees?
Maybe he's flirting. Maybe he's making out like a horny high school student. Maybe he's rounding second and leaving it there.
Unlikely, sure, but the idea is appealing somehow. And terrifying in another way.
Because if Dare wants to have fun with someone he cares about and I'm not able to trust anyone else—
I really can't consider what that means.
"You two always share?" Archie asks.
Dare raises a brow.
I kick him under the table. "Only sometimes."
"My tastes aren't as refined," Dare says.
"Action movies and spaghetti and meatballs?" Archie asks.
"You do like action movies," I say.
"Everyone likes Die Hard," Dare says.
Archie laughs. "You saw Zelda's poster? She had a soft spot for Bruce Willis." He blushes. "I do too."
A blush. That's good. That means something positive, in flirting speak.
Dare raises a brow. "Really? Not exactly film noir."
His blush deepens. "It's my dad's favorite movie."
"A lot of dads feel that way," Dare says.
"Yours?" Archie asks.
Dare tenses. "No." He pushes the conversation along. He doesn't like people noticing when he's hurt or upset or frustrated. It took me years to learn his tells. He really rocks a poker face, especially with other people. "Did Zelda hate when guys talked down to her about movies? Val hates that."
"Val is more knowledgeable about film than anyone I know." Archie looks at me with affection.
I can't tell if it's friendly or flirty, so I smile, and say, "Thanks."
Dare pushes the flirting forward. "Have you tried criticizing artists film bros love? Women love it when you insult the dudes their ex-boyfriends worshiped."
"That sounds a little manipulative," Archie says.
Dare shoots me a look. Good answer. He turns back to Archie. "Right. If you don't mean it. But I legitimately hate Christopher Nolan."
"Because his brother is obsessed with The Dark Knight," I say.
Dare shoots me another look, but this time I have no idea what it means. He shakes his head and turns his attention to Archie. "What about you? What can a woman say to flatter you?"