Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
He grins. “Yeah? Science? Biologists, I assume?”
“Butt-ologists,” I shoot back. “It’s the study of fine backsides, especially pro-athlete backsides. It’s a fascinating discipline.”
“Dabble in it yourself now and then?” he asks, nudging my shoulder with his.
“Of course,” I say, returning the playful nudge. “You know I love science. I’m a STEM girl from way back.”
“Then you should come with me to my friend Jack’s company picnic Friday afternoon. He’s a financial advisor who specializes in managing the portfolios of pro-athletes. All his current and prospective clients are invited. I’m imagining there will be a wide variety of finely honed backsides on display. A veritable smorgasbord for an amateur butt-ologist.” He shifts closer, making room for a large man making his way carefully toward the bathroom at the front of the car, adding in a whisper, “And he’s getting the good hot dogs. The fat ones from Coney Island.”
I swipe the side of my mouth with a snort. “Oh my God, that almost made me drool. Seriously. Just hearing you mention those hot dogs. What do they put in those things? It has to be some sort of addictive substance.”
He nods. “Heroin maybe. Or an unholy mixture of salt with a tiny bit of cinnamon and sugar that makes you crave them when the moon is full.”
“Definitely one or the other,” I say, grinning up at him as he tips his head closer to mine.
“So, are you coming with me to the picnic? If so, I should text Jack that I’ll have a plus-one. And warn him that she’s coming hungry for dogs and baseball player backsides.”
“Yes, I will join you. Thank you for the invitation.”
“You’re welcome.” He pulls out his phone, nudging my shoulder again. “It’s a date.”
A date…
We’re practically on a date right now, and despite my attempts to keep things casual by dressing like I was going to the skate park with the middle school kids down the block, yesterday was very date-like, too. And we both just admitted that we’re having more-than-friends feelings for each other.
Might as well call this what it is.
It’s…dating.
And no, that isn’t the course we originally charted, but it doesn’t change things that much, either. There may be more flirting and sexual tension than anticipated, but in the end, the result will be the same. Sam will fly back to his fabulous life in the UK, and I’ll stay here. Even if I get the Paradisus job, I won’t be moving anytime soon. I want to enjoy my last year of living with Harlow and Evie, and I’ve learned my lesson about rushing into major life changes.
I went full throttle into the gig at Brain Chill straight out of college and look how that turned out. If I hadn’t had old friends at home, making sure I ate, used my legs occasionally, and engaged with other humans IRL, that job would have devoured me whole.
I’m definitely going to take things slower this time around, which means Sam and I will be living in separate countries for the foreseeable future. I may not be an expert at dating, but even I know long-term relationships are notoriously hard to maintain. Evie and Ian are making it work, but only because he’s a millionaire who can afford to fly back to visit her every time he has three days off in a row.
Sam seems to be doing well for himself, but I’m sure his job is demanding, too. He won’t have the time to come flitting back to NYC to visit me, even if we decided a long-distance thing was a good idea.
Which reminds me…
“So, what exactly do you do?” I ask as he finishes texting his friend and tucks his cell back into his pocket. “You said you’re in a different division than the gaming crew, but you never explained exactly what that division is. Or what you do there, aside from jet-set around, offering old friends jobs.”
“I jet-set around offering people I don’t know jobs, too,” he says, looking a little uncomfortable. He recrosses his legs and rolls his shoulders back. “Is it just me or have the seats shrunk in the past six years?”
My lips hook up on one side. “I think you grew, Sasquatch. Your shoulders are ridiculous. You look like you should be acting in a superhero movie, not recruiting nerds for Paradisus’s plans for world domination.”
His head rocks back on his neck as a frown tightens his forehead. “World domination?”
“Yeah. You know that’s what they’re up to. With a mysterious, ego-maniacal billionaire running things behind the scenes and such a wide diversity in their subsidiary companies, they have to be up to something big. Why else would a software company want to invest in experimental energy, sustainable agriculture, homes made of recycled trash, and space travel?”
He crosses his arms over his chest as his frown intensifies. “How did you find out about all that? From what I understand, those companies are supposed to be well-concealed.”