Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 39471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 197(@200wpm)___ 158(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 197(@200wpm)___ 158(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
I glanced up at him, knowing my face was red as hell. I hated when I was embarrassed. My face got so red, my body starting to sweat.
“So, you’ll probably be studying all weekend?” He leaned back on the seat again and I couldn’t help but watch the way his shirt tightened against his chest.
Roman was lean, defined. He wasn’t bulky like a wrestler, more toned like a swimmer. But either way, no matter what, he had my heart racing and my belly tightening.
I looked down at my book for a moment and licked my lips, wanting to tell him that if he had plans, I’d be more than happy to do them with him. But that was wishful thinking, wasn’t it? Why would Roman ever ask me to do anything with him?
I was a book nerd, spent more of my time in the library than anywhere else.
He had a slew of friends and his own place.
I was still living with my parents.
We were on total opposites of the social spectrum.
I looked up at him and saw he watched me intently, this strange expression on his face. He cleared his throat and shifted his big body on the chair, as if he were embarrassed, or as if I’d caught him doing something he shouldn’t have.
“Yeah, I’ll probably be studying. But only because it’s not like I have anything else to do.” I laughed awkwardly.
He didn’t say anything for a moment and I felt this heavy weight settle between us. I didn’t like it. It wasn’t how I normally felt around him. It was almost strained, as if he wanted to say something, but was fighting against it.
“Listen,” he said and cleared his throat again. “Saturday night, after I’m done working on your car—” He paused for a minute and looked away, and I couldn’t help but smile, feeling this endearment fill me at the fact that Roman was clearly nervous. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him this way before.
He didn’t speak for a moment, and I wondered if he was trying to decide how he would word this. Although it was kind of funny, I did feel a little anticipation about what he would actually say. If he was this nervous asking me, was it something bad?
“I’m having a little gathering at my house,” he said and looked back at me. “Although I will say it wasn’t really my idea. A couple of my friends thought it would be a good time, but that’s left to be seen.” He gave me that lopsided smile and I wondered if that was something he did when he was nervous, like when I licked my lips or pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose. “Anyway, if you think you can pull yourself away from studying for a few hours, I’d love if you came and hung out.”
I immediately wanted to say yes, that I’d love to hang out with him. It was an excuse for me to spend more time with Roman outside of family gatherings. But a part of me, the reserved, shy and homebody part, stayed silent, knowing that me going to a gathering like that would probably be a bad idea. I would look out of place, a sore thumb sticking out. And I didn’t want people staring, didn’t want any kind of confrontation. I was a hermit in every sense of the word, but could I put all that aside to be able to hang out with Roman?
“A party? I don’t know, Roman. I’ve never actually been to one before.” God, saying that out loud was so embarrassing. But it was the truth. I hadn’t been popular in high school, so I hadn’t been invited to any parties. And in college, I just focused on school.
When I wasn’t doing that, I was swimming or running, or spending time with Isaac. I did have a part-time job, but one that was only a day or two a week, if the diner had any hours for me. And even that was a frustration for my father, seeing as he preferred I focus completely on school.
But how did he expect me to be an adult if I wasn’t multitasking my life? There were some things I just wasn’t willing to give up.
And as I looked at Roman, I realized he was at the top of that list.
“There’s nothing to be scared about,” he said and reached out to take my hand. I knew it was just a nice, genuine gesture, one to make me feel better, but my reaction was instant.
His touch on me was like fire licking over my skin. His hand was so much bigger than mine, and his sun-kissed skin was a stark contrast to my pale shade. He was masculine where I was feminine, and I felt my heart flutter at that fact.