Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
“Hmm,” she says with an exaggerated tap to her chin. “Is there smooching?”
“Smooching?” I snort, getting the attention of both Liam and Ben. I shoot them my most winsome, nothing to see here, folks smile and give her a shrug. “Well a little.”
“God,” she whispers. “And um… gotta say. I’m not like super experienced in this area, but that man does not look like he uses drugstore aftershave and takes a cab to work. He looks like he belongs on the cover of GQ or something.”
“Damnit, I know,” I say on a groan. But Liam’s hanging up the phone and turning back to Ben. Bailey’s eyes shoot from me to him and back to me, then she picks up her phone and gives me a pointed look so obvious it’s almost comical.
My phone buzzes with a text from her. I roll my eyes.
Friends with benefits? Did you sleep with him???
I huff out in indignation and text her back. I did not and stop asking details of my sex life. When the hell would I have time to sleep with him?
But it’s a flimsy excuse and I can’t even look at her because hell, I know. I’m gonna sleep with him.
Methinks the lady doth protest too much.
My mouth falls open in shock and I shoot her a glare, but her lips are pressed in a thin line and she’s shaking her head from side to side. I want to smack some sense into the girl with her Shakespearean clichés.
You think too much about sex, I shoot back in reply, giving her what I hope is an effective older-sister glare.
Fine, she texts, and sighs dramatically.
He IS rich, though, right?
Well, yeah. And this conversation is SO over.
I plunk my phone down on the counter to end this conversation, but the little instigator gives me a once-over as if she’s just noticing my clothes.
“Nice clothes,” she says in a whisper. “And a new phone? Girl, you are so holding out on me.”
I sigh. There’s no use denying it any longer. I won’t lie to her, she certainly isn’t going to get the whole truth, but I can at least give her as much as I can.
“We met, and I’m sort of seeing him,” I tell her. “But he isn’t really a boyfriend. I hardly know him, honey. So. Let’s take a look at that geometry,” I tell her. “I have to go really soon, and I can do my best to help you first.”
Looking across the room, she suddenly realizes she needs to cross in front of Liam to get her book. I shake my head and roll my eyes and go get her book.
Ben hoots and pumps his fist into the air, and I sneak a glance over at them. Liam’s got the penny at an angle, pointing to something, and the lightbulb is actually lit up.
I’m not used to him being like this, all normal nice guy, instead of the sadistic millionaire who drew a heart on my hand today and will likely find far more intrusive methods of “giving me a memento” in the future. And I don’t trust Mr. Nice Guy. I’m more used to the man I’m supposed to hate.
I do my best with Bailey’s math, but we’re struggling with one problem when Liam joins us at the counter. “Don’t forget that a negative times a negative equals a positive,” he says, pointing at a mark on the paper.
“Oh, right,” I say. We fix the problem, but I freeze when he bends down and plants the briefest but chaste kiss on my forehead just as the bell rings.
“Not a boyfriend,” Bailey says in a hissed whisper and an exaggerated eye roll when Liam goes to get the door. “Because friends totally look at you like that and kiss your forehead. And look at you like that.”
“Stop it or I’ll tell him you said that,” I threaten, using the only warning I know will work.
Her huge eyes go from me to him and she clamps her mouth shut.
I tell myself her foolish notions have seriously gone to her head, but I want to know what way he looks at me.
No, I don’t.
Yes, I do.
Fucking. Rule. Number. Six.
We eat pizza and laugh at Ben’s story about the Wildlife team that visited his school today and how the mouse got away from the instructor and chaos erupted in the classroom. This is easy and comfortable, and I don’t like that it is. He’s charming them, damnit. This isn’t our normal, and I don’t care about me, but I don’t like the idea of Ben and Bailey getting attached to a guy who won’t be here in a few months. I don’t like it at all.
So, when we’re done eating, I stand and wipe my hands on a napkin. “We need to get going, guys,” I tell them. I can feel the irritation building. How dare he come in here and beguile them like this? “You all set for tonight?”