Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
I didn’t really like Rock, no matter how much his dimples and the tequila were making me think otherwise. He was loud, confident, and he lit up a room. Anything and everything could be a joke to him. He was like a tornado ripping through my small world, and I had no idea how to handle him.
I liked being an introvert. It had taken me almost forty years of life, but I was finally coming to terms with it. Being alone was my happy place. People usually just ignored me and let me blend into the background.
Rock didn’t let anyone fade into the background.
“I do have bad news, though,” Rock said, the hint of a smile still playing on his lips.
“What?”
“We can never date each other,” he said simply, his brown eyes fixed on me.
I stood frozen like a pillar of stone, watching him. I was pretty damn sure Rock was straight. Right?
“Date…?” I said, trailing off. I didn’t feel like I had butterflies in my chest, I felt like I had tables flipping over inside of me.
“Because I love pineapple on pizza,” he said, emphatic conviction in his voice. “I love it. I’ll eat every single bite of carby, cheesy, tomato-pineapple goodness, and I’m not afraid to admit it.”
I snorted, which turned into a laugh.
Of course. Rock was just being Rock. He was joking. Like he always was.
“God, that is fucking gross,” I said, still laughing. “Pardon my language.”
“If by gross you mean sweet-salty-savory heaven, sure,” he said. “But it’s okay. I can take it. I’m sure I’ll never try as many fancy foods as you have. You probably eat caviar and marbled wagyu beef for breakfast.”
I shrugged one shoulder. “I had Cheerios for breakfast, actually.”
“No shit?”
I shook my head. “I like foods that are fancy and foods that are dead simple,” I said. “I think foods that are considered fancy should be available to everyone, anyway.”
“I love that idea,” Rock said. “That’s why you had the little caviar... thingies at the bar last night, isn’t it?”
“That was tobiko, not caviar. But yes. I want to bring that kind of food to the tavern. Everyone deserves to try stuff that’s considered fancy.”
“And that’s why you’re amazing,” Rock said. “I don’t care if it’s dirt from the ground, if you put it on a plate in front of me, I’m putting it in my mouth.”
My cheeks flared hot again. Christ. Was the guy trying to give me a heart attack?
“Thank you,” I said simply, even though I was squirming inside.
My brother had been telling me I was bad at taking compliments for my whole life. My instinct was to brush them off, saying I wasn’t very good at anything. Cameron told me to just say thank you.
Impossible. It sounded so simple, but for me, nothing was.
“You’re very, very welcome,“ Rock said. His eyes were lingering on me, and the dimples were back, now, too. If I didn’t have a heart attack, I sure as hell was going to have a dick attack. I didn’t know what that might entail, but it sounded terrifying and probably involved a lot of cum.
“Whew. Maybe I... shouldn’t have taken that last shot,” I said quietly. I swayed slightly on my feet.
“Let’s go back in and get some water,” he said, reaching out to take my arm. My chest bloomed with warmth as I felt Rock’s arm link into my own, his skin warm and soft.
“You’re the one with the big boot on, and you have to help me back inside,” I said. “That’s proof enough that I’m not in my best form tonight.”
Rock’s lips went into a tight line, the joy briefly gone from his face. I was pretty sure I’d said something to offend him, but I didn’t know what.
“I don’t care what I’ve got strapped around my ankle,” Rock finally said, “I’m not going to let that stop me from helping a friend.”
Maybe he just didn’t like talking about the boot, or maybe I’d said something wrong. But I knew I liked hearing Rock referring to me as a friend. I didn’t have enough of those, and just being called that made me happier than it had any right to.
“Thank you,” I said as we headed back toward the front doors.
The tightness was gone from his face immediately, and he glanced at me again with those warm brown eyes, like he was actually glad to be with me.
“No problem, Chef,” he said. “And I promise I’ll never breathe on you, be around you, or try to kiss you after eating pineapple pizza.”
I glanced over at him, my eyes drawn immediately to his plush lips. I couldn’t even imagine a guy like Rock trying to kiss me. It seemed so impossible it almost made me laugh.
“Pretty sure that won’t be a problem,” I said.