Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
“This won’t be weird at all,” I say.
“You’ll be fine,” Ethan reassures me, squeezing my arm.
We took a bus together—I don’t like subways—since Ethan’s meeting Martina for ping-pong tonight at a nearby bar. Of course he remained friends with the sexy redheaded bartender from Gin Joint after dating her and then breaking it off. Same for the guy at The Lucky Spot, the one who recognized him and came to his show then talked him up afterward. They went out a few times too, and still work out together, even though they don’t date anymore.
Ethan just has this way about him with people. Which is why I asked him to walk me here. I didn’t want to face this alone. “How am I even supposed to act with the two of them?”
We stop several feet from the building’s entrance, and the look in his eyes says he’s about to dole out some tough love. “Like you haven’t seen both of them naked.”
I groan from the depths of my embarrassed soul.
“I’m right though,” he adds.
“I know,” I say, stepping closer so I can drop my face against his sturdy chest. “Trust me, I know.”
He strokes my hair. “I mean it, Layla. Just focus on the planning. The charity. The reason you wanted to do this with David. He’s a cool dude. We all like him. Everyone likes him. He’s like a good dog.”
David’s not quite a part of the crew, but we’ve gone out a few times as a group. He joined us for karaoke shortly after he graduated.
I raise my head and concur. “He’s a Golden Retriever.”
Ethan smiles slyly. “You do know a Golden Retriever boyfriend is a good thing.”
I laugh. “And yet neither one of us has one,” I say.
“Maybe I’m waiting for the same kind of man you are,” he whispers as if he’s sharing a tawdry secret. But he’s telling me something we both know. We have similar taste in men. A little edgy, a little dirty. He gestures to the building. “Because obviously you fucked a sex prince.”
I laugh. “Yes, a rich sex prince, with a fantastic dick, a to-die-for beard, a dirty mind, and oh, one more thing,” I say, then lower my voice since you never know who’s listening. “I can’t ever see him again, since his son is my ex and my friend, and also his son is the sweetest Golden Retriever ever.”
Ethan gazes skyward, shaking his head wistfully. “I really shouldn’t say this, but I bet the sex in that penthouse with Hot Daddy would have been torrid.”
“You’re not helping. Do you want me to torture you with stories of forbidden affairs? Someday, you’re going to meet a hottie and then you’re going to discover they’re your new bandmate.”
“Don’t curse me,” he says.
“Maybe it’s a blessing.”
“Only if it ends in a blow job.”
I bump my shoulder to his. “You pig. Is that all you care about?”
“Have you ever had a blow job?”
“Shockingly, no,” I deadpan as we walk the remaining feet to the building.
“I rest my case,” he says. We reach the entrance, where a doorman in a burgundy suit stands dignified. The place is so classy the doormen don’t even need to dress in livery costumes. Tailored suits will do, thank you very much.
But now that I’m about to go into the Lair of Awkward, my stomach dips with nerves again. Setting a hand on my stomach, I strip away the banter, going straight for the bare truth. “Ethan, I feel like such a little…”
I hate the word liar.
The man who killed my father accused him of being a liar. My father wasn’t. I knew he wasn’t. My father knew he wasn’t. We all knew that his business partner was the liar.
But I feel maybe I am. So I say the word, no matter how much it hurts. “I feel like a liar.”
Ethan rubs my shoulder with a sympathetic hand. “What were you supposed to do though? You weren’t going to ’fess up over fries that you already knew his dad. That you’d spent time with him in Miami. That you had a date with him. That would have been unnecessary. Just try to leave it all behind you,” he says, and the thought of leaving Nick in the past makes my chest ache. But I know it’s for the best.
I know, too, I’ll have to do a better job than I did the other night when I texted Nick that photo of my corset in a moment of weakness. I can’t keep teasing him with the possibility of an us. I can’t keep toying.
He didn’t even respond. Let that be my lesson to shut up.
“I’ll try,” I say, chin up, resolute.
Ethan wraps an inked arm around me and kisses my cheek. “Let me know how it goes, babe.”
I smile, grateful for the pep talk. When we let go, I pat his strong chest. “Have fun with Martina and the crew. And I hope your next blow job is…well, a revelation.”