Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 86596 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86596 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“Excuse me? That is not what they said.” I look at Tripp for help. “They think I’m going to fall in love—which is ridiculous—allll because I told them I couldn’t imagine myself being tied down.”
“Not in the metaphorical sense.” Molly chuckles under her breath, a secretive grin on her face.
“And since I can’t keep showing up to events without a date, I thought I would align myself with someone I have zero interest in. Then Jack and Penn will forget about the bet, and we can all move on with our lives.”
Molly crosses her arms and taps her foot, nostrils flaring with annoyance. “Someone you have zero interest in? Gee, thanks.”
“I meant no offense. I meant it as a compliment.”
I’ve never heard a snort come out of a woman so petite in all my life, but one comes out of her that makes my eyes go wide.
“Whatever you say.” She notches her head and looks away.
“Oh my god.” Tripp laughs. “I could watch the two of you go at it all fucking day.” He checks his watch. “Hey, listen. I want the two of you both at the Sportscaster Awards this weekend if you can swing it. My parents are coming to town to watch Ruby and the dog so we can have a night out. I want you both at my table.” He glances at Molly. “You can ruin his whole evening while I watch. It’ll be hilarious.”
“I’ll put you both on the list.” He slaps me on the back. “Well, bud—gotta run. This took way too long.”
“No.” Molly is already shaking her head, and Tripp isn’t even out of the room yet. “No. Whatever you’re thinking, the answer is no. I will not be railroaded into attending some cockamamie event with you.”
“Oh, come on! It wouldn’t kill you!”
Molly starts laughing. “Actually, it could. And obviously, he’s lost his damn mind over the past ten years. No way am I going to be your date for some gala.”
She doesn’t have to sound so adamant about it.
Jeez. She’s going to give me a complex.
I’m a catch!
“I mean, it’s not the worst idea in the world.” And maybe I’ll be able to convince her to actually help me out. Kill two birds with one stone? Those galas and big awards ceremonies aren’t immune from gold diggers and cleat chasers hanging around trying to win themselves a rich, famous husband.
How they get inside is beyond me, but it happens.
Molly scrunches up her face. “Eh.”
I sigh. “Come on. Plus, are you actually going to tell Tripp Wallace that you’re rejecting his invitation?”
My smug smile is swiftly wiped off by her comeback.
“His invitation? First of all, that wasn’t an invite. He was being bossy. And secondly, Tripp Wallace won’t give a shit if I don’t show up. He’d get over it the second I dropped by his place to walk his dog and give his daughter home-baked chocolate chip cookies.” She rolls her eyes and begins walking toward the exit.
I trot along like a puppy with its tail between its legs, and since when do I chase anyone anymore?
“Thirdly.” Molly holds up a hand with three fingers. “If Tripp can be bossy, so can I.” She tosses her ponytail. “No one puts Baby in the corner.”
“Fine. Point taken.” I move quickly to catch up with her. “What would it take to convince you to humor an old man and do me a solid at the same time?”
Molly stops.
Pivots slowly on her heel to face me, giving me a once-over, eyeing me up and down.
“I’m telling him you said that.”
My eyes widen. “You’re going to tattle on me?”
She shrugs. “You called him old. Aren’t you like—the same age?”
I burst out a laugh. “You think I’m in my forties?” My stance widens arrogantly. “I’m flattered, but no, I’m only thirty-six.”
“I wasn’t trying to flatter you.”
She wasn’t? “Oh. I thought you were implying that I must be old because I’m so successful.”
Molly laughs, more to herself than out loud to me. “Wow. The ego on you.”
“Please.” I scoff. “Don’t stand there and tell me you didn’t do an internet search after I left your house the other night.”
“Of course I looked you up. I know damn well how old you are.”
“Again.” I place a hand on my chest. “Flattered.”
That makes her laugh. “Would you stop saying that?”
She’s pretty when she laughs. Dark hair, dark eyes, rosy cheeks. Clever and smart.
A man could do worse than spend an evening with her, fake as it would be.
“I dare you to go to the Sportscaster Awards with me this weekend. It won’t be a date, and it’ll be fun, I swear.”
“You dare me?” Molly yanks the door of the studio open, sunlight streaming in at a blinding rate. “What are you, a twelve-year-old boy? I don’t cave to peer pressure, and I’m not a teenager who will take a dare.”