Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 38007 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 190(@200wpm)___ 152(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38007 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 190(@200wpm)___ 152(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
“Think I’ll stick with ‘doll face.’ It fits you.”
I scrunch my nose and wonder if being called doll face is a compliment. I always thought my dolls were pretty when I was a little girl.
“Hey there, Cannon!” We both turn to see Tasha, who is headed right for us. I pull my hand from Bear’s when Tasha’s eyes land on where we were connected. He grunts something I can’t make out as Tasha strolls towards us dressed like she’s ready for a night out on the town.
Her long dark hair falls in waves past her shoulders. Her heels click on the floor as she sways her hips, and it’s the first time I wonder if she walks like that naturally or if she is doing it on purpose. Not that I would blame her. It throws her curves around, and she’s got plenty to show off. Tasha is tall and curvy with his dark eyes and hair. I’m small with hair so blonde that it looks white if the light hits it right.
“It’s Teddy,” Bear corrects her. Cannon? Where did that came from?
“I can call you anything you like.” She winks at him.
She’s wearing a red dress that molds to body and is short enough to make me worry about how she’s going to sit down. I look down at what I’m wearing and feel silly.
I’m in jean shorts covered in paint and a T-shirt with an adorable rabbit on the front of it. My feet are bare, giving me no extra height. I normally don’t care about my height, but up against Bear I’m extra small. My toenails are each painted a different bright color, just like my hands. No wonder he was asking for my parents. Next to Tasha I look like a kid.
I take a step back, wanting to go into my apartment. Bear’s eyes come back to mine and he sidesteps, closing the space I put between us.
“Teddy is fine,” he tells Tasha, not looking at her.
“Did you need something?” I ask when I remember that he knocked on my door. “I’m sorry, that was rude. Welcome to the neighborhood,” I rush to add.
“Yeah, welcome. I’m Tasha.” She holds out her hand to him.
“I don’t like to be touched,” he tells her, still not looking over at her. I scrunch my face in confusion. He shook my hand a moment ago. I look at Tasha, who I know is probably thinking the same thing as me. She saw him doing it.
“All right,” she says with a smile. She doesn’t look pissed at all. In fact, she looks amused.
“I wanted to introduce myself. Let you know it might be loud while they move my shit.”
“Thanks for letting me know.” I smile up at him in an effort to be polite.
Maybe he doesn’t want to touch Tasha because she called him Cannon. I called him Bear, but that didn’t seem to bother him. He smiled at me when I said it, and the name fits.
He reaches out and tugs on the end of my braid. “Me. That’s who’s keeping an eye on you now,” he tells me in that deep voice before turning and walking to his apartment door. He opens it and taps on the little black circle. “Peephole, doll face. Learn to use it. Or I’ll have the whole floor locked so people can’t just come and go.”
The door closes behind him and I stand there staring, before Tasha pushes me into my apartment and shuts the door behind us.
“Holy shit,” she exclaims as I look up at her. She has a gigantic smile on her face and looks super excited.
“Can he really do that?” I ask her. There are only three apartments on this floor, and I know his takes up that side of the building. There’s another next to mine, but it’s been vacant since I moved in. I have the smallest type of apartment in the building, with one bedroom and one bath. It isn't much, but it’s more than I need.
“Probably. He’d have to get a key lock for the elevator and the door for the stairs.”
I wave my hand like that would be ridiculous. He’s not going to do that. He is right, though. I should have checked the peephole. Not that I’m worried. Everyone in the building is nice. Well, everyone I’ve met. It doesn't matter now. He isn't going to go to all that trouble.
As if reading my mind, Tasha adds, “It’s not like he can't afford it.”
She sits down on my sofa and picks up one of the pillows I made last night. They turned out pretty freaking cute, even if my fingers don't agree with me today. I really need to look into getting a sewing machine, but they can be costly.
“This is adorable,” she tells me before sitting it back down.