Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80314 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80314 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“May.” I turn when my name is called and watch Zach, who teaches history and coaches football, jog toward me across the lot. As he gets closer, I try to see what all the other women who work here do, but I just can’t. Don’t get me wrong; he is good-looking, but it’s like he tries too hard. His hair is always perfectly styled, his clothes always put together and neatly pressed, and his physique overly muscular, like he spends every day in the gym, which I’m pretty sure he actually does. Maybe I’m weird but I could never date a guy that is more concerned with his appearance than I am with my own. When I first started teaching here he and I went out on a date, but while we were out he was more interested in talking about himself than anything else. He also seemed to know every woman we came across which was a huge red flag. That was our first and last date and why I’ve turned him down the few times he’s asked me out since then.
“Hey.” I smile, then awkwardly hug him when his arms wrap around me.
“Did you have a good winter break?”
I glance over at him as he begins walking with me toward my car. “I got to sleep in and spend some time at the beach, so I can’t complain,” I reply, and he turns his head to meet my gaze head-on, since he and I are just about the same height—or at least we are now, with me wearing a pair of heeled booties. “What about you?”
“It was good, but even the three weeks off didn’t seem long enough.”
“Spring break will be here before you know it.”
He laughs, then asks, “Do you have plans to get away then?”
“No, I’ll probably stay home. What about you?”
“I’m heading up to Gatlinburg for a few days with some friends.”
“That sounds fun,” I comment.
“A whole bunch of us are going. You should join us.”
“I’ll have to think about it.” We stop at my car, and I dig my keys out from my bag.
He tucks his hands into the pockets of his long black wool coat as the wind begins to pick up. “What about dinner tonight?”
“I would,” I lie, “but I have some stuff I need to take care of at home. Maybe another time.” I tack on the last part, because I feel awkward and don’t know how to tell him straight out that I’m just not interested—at least not without hurting his feelings and making this situation even more uncomfortable.
“That’s cool. I don’t have plans this weekend. We could catch a movie or grab dinner then.”
Lord, he’s not going to give up.
“I…” I start to give in, to tell him that dinner would be fine, but instead, I blurt, “I’m actually kind of seeing someone.” The lie slides easy enough off my tongue as I shift on my heels. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re kind of seeing someone? So it’s not serious?” He raises a brow, and I inwardly groan.
“It’s not that. It’s just really new.” I grab the door handle of my car, ready for this to be over. “I have to go, but have a good night.”
“You too.” He backs up so I can get into my car, and as soon as I lock myself in, I start the engine and wave as I drive off, because he’s still watching me. As I pull out of the lot, I turn the opposite direction of where my house is located, since I don’t feel like cooking tonight, then drive through one of the local fast food places to pick up something to eat.
Twenty minutes later, I pull onto my street, and my heart starts to pound the moment I see a large truck parked in my driveway with the engine running and the headlights on. Aiden told me that his flight was getting in Tuesday evening, but I honestly didn’t think I would see him, at least not after ignoring him the last two days. After I park next to him I watch him get out of his truck, looking like he’s stepping out of an ad for a working man’s catalog, in his boots, worn jeans, and puffy vest with a thermal underneath. I pull in a breath and try to prepare for whatever this visit might be as I unhook my belt and grab the stuff off my passenger seat.
“Ignoring me again, doll?” he greets as soon as my door is open, and I bite the inside of my cheek.
I have been ignoring him, even though it hasn’t been easy. I’ve wanted to message him back a million times to tell him about the messages I received from Mike and check his reaction, but self-preservation hasn’t allowed it. Plus, over texts or on the phone, he could easily lie, and I would never know. Not that asking him in person is any better of an idea, since like every time I’ve been in his presence, my body has tuned in to him, and it does not care one iota if he’s a liar or not.