Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 129354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
“No idea who that is.”
I laugh harder, wiping tears from my eyes. “I can’t believe you fell prey to a cougar.”
“What’s wrong with that? She was hot, the sex was hot. Good times.”
He’s completely unfazed by my mockery, and that’s one of the things I’m grudgingly starting to like about him. He possesses a steely confidence that I genuinely admire. Nothing rattles this man. He’s so sure of himself, of his masculinity, his skill. Jake Connelly doesn’t have an insecure bone in his body.
“Wait, if it was so hot, then why would you never do it again?” I demand.
“Because it cost me one of my best friends,” he says glumly, and I realize that he is capable of being rattled. “What about you? What’s your most embarrassing hookup story?”
“Hmmm. I don’t know.” I think it over, but even if my brain had conjured up a crazy Stifler’s mom-esque scenario, I wouldn’t be able to reveal it because a car door slams from outside. “Ugh. My dad’s home,” I tell Jake.
“I still can’t believe you’re living at home again. Has there been any news about your apartment?”
“My landlords pumped all the water out, and now they’re bringing in a cleaning crew. Hopefully it won’t be much longer.” I hear the key turn in the lock. “I gotta go now. We’ll talk later.”
Later? a little voice taunts.
Oh boy, this is bad. Getting to know Jake shouldn’t be an item on my agenda.
“Wait,” he says roughly. “When’s our next fake date?”
I have to smile. “Fake date?”
“Yeah. When do we need to pull the wool over Mulder’s eyes again?”
“Um, most likely never? It’s not like we’ve been invited to do anything else.” I wrinkle my nose. “Why do you even want to?”
“Because isn’t that the arrangement? A real date for a fake one? And I want a real one.”
My heart skips a beat. “You just want to have sex with me.”
“Yes. Badly.”
At least he’s honest. “Well, I think the fake-date ship has sailed, I’m afraid.”
His voice thickens. Husky and endearing. “What about the real-date ship?”
My teeth dig into my bottom lip. Then I take a breath. “I think that one might still be in the harbor.”
“Good. Let’s try to do something this weekend? Maybe after the charity games?”
Dad’s footsteps near the living room. “We’ll figure it out. I have to go now.”
I hang up as my father enters the room. “Hi,” he greets me. His absent-minded gaze flicks to the television.
“Hey. There’s dinner in the microwave. You just need to nuke it.”
“Perfect. Thanks. I’m starving.” He turns on his heel and marches into the kitchen.
“How was practice?” I call out.
“Davenport was throwing an attitude,” he answers from the other room, and there’s no mistaking his displeasure. “I don’t know what’s going on with that kid.”
“Maybe it’s girl trouble. I heard he’s going through the puck bunnies like hotcakes.”
Dad appears in the doorway, running a hand over his buzz cut. “Women,” he mutters. “Always the root of this shit.”
“Actually, I meant that Hunter was being the obnoxious one and using the bunnies to deal with his own issues. But, cool, blame everything on us, the evil demon women.” I roll my eyes. “I hope you didn’t say this kind of stuff to Mom.”
“No,” he says gruffly. “Your mother wasn’t a demon. She had her issues. But we all do.” He gives me a pointed look, but then the microwave beeps and he turns to get his dinner.
I’m glad that he leaves the room. I’m so tired of seeing his harsh judgment. He’s never going to let me forget my mistakes.
I wonder how other people cope with the knowledge that their parents are ashamed of them. The weight of my father’s shame has been pressing down on my shoulders for years, and I’ve yet to find a way to deal with it.
The girls’ night that Summer and I anticipated doesn’t pan out. We walk into Malone’s to find Hollis, Nate, and Hunter at the bar. When they spot us, Nate suggests grabbing a booth, and it’s impossible to say no in the face of Nate’s dimples. So we pile into a booth near the pool tables, where Hollis announces we’re doing shots.
“After today’s practice, we all need it,” he says darkly.
I give a wave to Jesse Wilkes and his girlfriend, Katie, who are shooting pool at one of the far tables. Katie waves back enthusiastically.
“That was brutal,” Nate agrees.
I shift my gaze back. “Yeah, my dad said there was some tension today.” I fix a knowing look at Hunter.
“Aw, is Coach trashing me behind my back?” he mocks.
“I’m pretty sure whatever he said to me, he also said right to your face. I know my father, and he doesn’t mince words.”
“Oh, Coach reamed him out good today,” Nate confirms, his eyes twinkling.
“What’d you do to deserve it?” I ask Hunter.