The Neighbor Wager Read Online Crystal Kaswell

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Chick Lit, Contemporary Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 103102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
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“He’s not about to throw the drink in the guy’s face,” I say, “but he’s ready to leave. His friend is there for the babes, and there are babes, definitely, but they’re not Dad’s type.”

“Dare I ask?”

“He was looking for a proper wife,” I say. “A woman from a nice family who wanted to have kids, stay home, support him. That was the only way he’d accomplish great things, the way his father expected him to. And he knew that kind of woman wasn’t at Tom’s Bar and Grill.”

“No, of course not. Tom’s has fast women and bad liquor.”

This time, I laugh. Has River always been this funny? Charming? Sexy?

No. I’m taking this distraction thing too far, feeling an attraction I shouldn’t. I need to snap out of it. I need to focus on the road, not his dark eyes or his snug jeans or the lines of ink on his right arm.

Is that all comic-art style, or just what I can see?

Nope. I’m driving, not gawking. I continue, “So Dad is at Tom’s and he’s about to tell his friend he’ll wait in the car. Then he hears it. The most beautiful voice in the world. This woman, singing about her heartbreak, about how deeply she hurt after a relationship fell apart, and how much she wants someone to put her back together. And he looks at her—and that’s it. He falls in love right there. Or so that’s how the story goes.”

River nods. “Love at first sight.”

“You really believe that?” I ask.

“You don’t?”

“Of course not. She was beautiful. He was horny. That’s what initially got them together. Then the falling in love happened later, once they got to know each other. Compatibility took over. Compatibility is what kept them together.” I’ve seen plenty of pictures of Mom in her youth. She was gorgeous, with long blonde hair and green eyes and full lips. She wore a leather jacket over her sundress, showing off innocence and experience, the same way Lexi does. Dad was totally attracted to her with just one look. But that isn’t love.

“You don’t allow any possibility of love at first sight?” River asks.

“No,” I say. “Why would I?”

“Because it happens.”

“To who?”

He shrugs. “To anyone. It’s not something you can plan or calculate.” He doesn’t say with an app, but I hear it loud and clear. “It just happens, and you don’t know it’s happened until it’s already done. Plenty of people can vouch for that.”

Except he isn’t talking about “plenty of people.” He means Lexi—he means how he feels about Lexi. He has to. Who else would he mean? He’s had it bad for her since “first sight.” I’ve known this for as long as I’ve known him.

So much for this distraction, it isn’t working. Time for a Plan B. Yes, most people are more likely to get frisky after a few drinks, but not someone as romantic as River. He wants a perfect first date with Lexi. Which means clear-eyed sobriety. So…getting him drunk is not a long-term solution, but it works for tonight.

Chapter Eight

Deanna

Outside, Depressed Mode looks like any other bar. Another unassuming strip mall. The sort of small, slightly run-down collection of stores that covers the east side of the county. All the more charming for its lack of perfection. A reminder that the county’s west side is perfectly planned and curated within an inch of its total lack of life.

A local pizza place, a tattoo parlor, and the county’s only Goth bar.

Inside, Depressed Mode is all purple light and ornate black frames. The place is small—about the size of Dad’s living room—and it wears its theme in every corner. Posters of Cthulhu-inspired monsters. Framed photos of coffins. A pink-on-black menu printed above the bar. All themed drinks named after popular Goth or Goth-adjacent bands.

Even though it’s prime party hour (past it in Orange County, really), the place is quiet. Two singles chatting at the long bar against the wall. A couple in one of the booths on the left. Another, in matching black catsuits and dog collars, swaying to the EDM beat on the right.

I guess that’s the dance floor. It’s much smaller than the massive ballrooms where I learned to waltz and foxtrot, but I know how to work it all the same. Mom made sure we learned how to dance to anything, at any time, at any place.

She would have loved this bar. The loud music, the over-the-top lights, the energy. Even though it’s a slow night, the place buzzes with the mix of sadness and, well, horniness I associate with Goth kids.

“Is this my scene?” River laughs as he follows me inside. He’s distracted, momentarily at least.

“Is it not?” I only know the place by reputation, but it exceeds every expectation. It’s perfect for him.

“Shit.” His face fills with recognition as he looks at the bar. At the bartender, specifically.


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