Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
He stops eating, annoyed again. “So what? I won a fight. It paid a lot of money. That’s not unusual.”
“I don’t know.”
“What’s there to know?”
“This was supposed to be one practice date. And now it’s two.”
He grins at me. “You don’t want a second date with me?”
“Not with Nandy around.”
“Well, we’ll go out tomorrow too. Then Nandy can be the third date.”
“Whoa, there buddy.” Eason grins at me. Even chuckles a little. “Three dates, Eason? You’re getting way ahead of yourself.”
“You say that now. But I haven’t even kissed ya goodnight yet.” Then he winks at me and flashes that dimple when he grins.
I must blush bright pink because he laughs, and shakes his head, and then resumes eating.
I eat too. The Argentine rice bowl is my favorite. So we both go quiet. I don’t know what he’s thinking about, but I’m starting to picture this goodnight kiss. It’s gotten a lot of build-up and I’m starting to feel nervous about the whole thing.
Will it just be something innocent? Not a cheek kiss, he made that clear. But will it be quick? Or lingering? With tongue? I’ve never done that before. Not properly. I lied earlier. I did kiss a guy once and it wasn’t Paulo. It was a boy I met when I first got here. I was staying in the hostel and I joined in on a card game. Drank a little bit so I was more relaxed than usual. And I ended up kissing one of the other players outside in the alley. But he scared me a little when he opened his mouth and tried to slip his tongue into mine. I pushed him away and that’s where it ended. I didn’t stay there that night.
“Maybe we should just call off the kiss,” I say.
Eason looks up from his food, surprised. “Why? What’s going through that head of yours now?”
“Nothing. It’s just…” I shrug. “It’s not real. So why bother?”
“I thought it was practice?”
“You don’t have to. It’s OK. I’m sure I’ll figure it all out eventually.”
He puts his fork down and leans back in his chair. He ate so fast, most of his meal is already gone. “Irina, ya have to grow up sometime. I’m safe. I’m not gonna attack ya. Get it over with so you can, you know, be normal and shit. Date. Like girls your age do.”
I’m still unsure, so I don’t agree. I just go back to eating. But it only takes a few seconds to realize he’s staring at me. “What?” It comes out snappish.
“You’re pretty, ya know.”
“Just stop.” I don’t look up at him. My eyes are studying the details of the red beans in my rice and my mouth is too busy chewing.
“Ya are. I’m not just saying that. You’ve got a very unusual look.”
This makes me look up. “Unusual? That’s special, isn’t it?”
“Unusual isn’t bad. It’s unique.”
I just roll my eyes and continue eating.
“What made you change your mind about the kiss?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I’m just calling it off.”
“Because you really are scared.” He pauses here for too long. So then I get curious and look up at him. “Why is it so scary?”
“It’s not. I’m fine. I just… you’re not… real. So I don’t wanna do it.”
“Fine. I’m not gonna talk you into a kiss. I’m a great kisser. Women line up to kiss me. I once won a kissing contest.”
“Shut up.”
“I got a rosette ribbon and everything. Blue. It said ‘World’s Best Kisser’ on it.”
“Shut up.”
“Do you require references? Is that the problem? I haven’t updated my kissing CV lately, but I can get ya references.” He actually pulls out his phone and starts scrolling.
“Just stop, OK?”
He pauses his scrolling to look at me. “I just want to make sure ya understand what you’ll be missing out on.” Then he pushes back from the table and stands up, pocketing his phone. “I’ll be right back.”
I watch him walk away. In fact, I’m pretty sure everyone on this patio is watching him walk away. He looks nice. Different tonight. He’s wearing a long-sleeved button down and a pair of tan-colored chinos and this makes me think of Maart.
Maart slipped into the city life easily, in my opinion. He took to it. I never saw him wear pants at home. It was always shorts. Cargo shorts, sweat shorts, every kind of shorts. Because, of course, it was the jungle. Clothes were a required annoyance where we came from.
But in the city, Maart dressed the way Eason is tonight. Casual, but a little bit fancy.
For a moment I let myself wonder what he’s up to. Is he in Brazil right now? Or is he somewhere else with one of the boys, getting ready for a fight? Does he miss me?
Maybe he did at first, but it’s been years now. I understand that Eason said he’s looking for me, but… what does that mean? Why is Maart looking for me? And what has he been doing all this time? Is he married? Does he have kids?