Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
I feel my face heat up as I smile and duck my head away from his gaze. "It went well, thank you," I say. Then I laugh at my stupid formal response. When I glance back up he's smiling
too.
It turns out Everly was right. It does feel different being bare down there. I'm sure I'll get used to the sensation, but I've been slightly turned on since I had it done two days ago.
I'm so aware of the weight of my denim jeans over the slip of lace underwear I'm wearing, making me feel a little bold, a little risqué.
Mike tips my chin up with one hand and places a soft kiss on my lips. The other hand is on my hip and his thumb has slipped under my sweater and is resting directly on my heated skin.
I'm almost ready to tell him we should ditch the dinner plans and head back to his dorm room when they call us with an available table.
Mike holds my hand and leads me back towards the hostess, then follows me into the restaurant. The hostess seats us at our table, dropping two menus down before departing.
"Thank you." I smile as Mike hands one of the menus to me. Mike flips his menu open and I'm about to do the same when my eyes move to a table slightly behind Mike, to the right.
Luke.
Chapter 10
He's staring directly at me. Our eyes lock as my mind races. My good mood vanishes as I contemplate an entire meal with my gynecologist as chaperone.
"Hi, I'm Brandee." The waitress has arrived. "Can I get you drinks while you look at the menus?"
Mike orders a Coke and I order a second glass of wine. I cross my legs under the table and glance back at Luke. He's still staring at me. He's not smiled in greeting once. Maybe I should
smile? I try that. Luke's jaw ticks in response and his lips don't move.
"What are you getting?" Mike asks, redirecting my attention back to him.
I haven't even looked at the menu. I glance down, pretending I've been reviewing it. "Pad Thai." I give Mike a huge smile and close the menu, setting it down on the table. I shift in my
seat so I can glance back to Luke's table. Luke's lips are moving now and I notice for the first time he's not alone. There's a beautiful red-haired woman sitting across from him. He's
on a date.
She's in a cream sweater dress and tall brown fuck-me boots. I can see them from my vantage point. She looks very elegant though, classy. I'd guess her to be much closer to his age than
I am. I'd also guess she doesn't own a single pair of socks that say classy bitch across the bottoms.
"Are you ready to order?" Brandee is back, placing our drinks on the table and pulling out a pen and pad. She smiles and looks between Mike and I. We glance at each other and nod.
Brandee jots our order down and stuffs the pad into her apron pocket, promising to be back soon with an appetizer I didn't even catch Mike ordering. I'm a bad date.
I focus on Mike and get him talking. He's majoring in business, and he has a definite plan after graduation. He wants to open a deluxe car wash on the empty lot next to his dad's Chevy
dealership and once that's up and running open a custom auto paint shop. He has a business plan ready, something he put together last year for a class, but he's really passionate about
it. It might sound silly, but he has a vision for his success. Eventually he'll learn his dad's business and take it over when he retires.
Brandee places an order of chicken satay on our table with a warm smile. "Are you two students at Penn?"
"We are." Mike beams at her. "Are you an alumna?"
"Yes, I am." Brandee nods. "Met my husband there." She smiles at the two of us, like we remind her of her and her spouse. "We'd love for our daughter to attend Penn after high school,
but she's determined to attend Penn State. Three hours away!" She shrugs and sighs, like she can't bear the thought of her baby flying so far away from the coop.
"Which building did you live in?" Mike asks her, popping a piece of chicken into his mouth.
"I lived in Frider Hall." She starts to laugh. "We had this security guard there named Mr Holguin, but he insisted we call him Fireball."
"Fireball!" Mike exclaims. "That guy is still there!"
I sneak another look over to Luke's table while Mike is laughing over the antics of the oldest, most beloved school employee on campus. Their food has arrived. Luke's date is mid-sip on
a glass of wine and Luke is placing a forkful of noodles into his mouth. The fingers of his left hand are resting on the wooden table top, inches from a cell phone. His index finger is
tapping the wood in a slow steady rhythm.