Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 87856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Imogen clears her throat.
"And that's good for her. She's so high-strung. She needs someone who puts her in her body. And not in a pervy way, though I know she thinks I'm a sex-obsessed teenager," Julie says.
"Not at all?" I ask.
"She needs someone who helps her relax and feel," Julie says.
"I didn't realize this would be nonstop character assassination," Imogen says.
"I can say it nicely." Julie laughs. "Imogen is very studious. Thoughtful. She gets lost in her big, beautiful head." She looks to Imogen and raises a brow better?
"Barely." Imogen drops off our chai lattes. "Oatmeal is almost done."
"Thanks! I mean it that way, you know. I admire your intelligence," Julie says.
"Thank you," Imogen says.
"You're supposed to say something you admire about me now," Julie says.
"I admire your perseverance. Even though it's annoying." Imogen smiles and returns to the oatmeal.
"It's a compliment," I say.
"Oh yeah. Our job, as younger siblings." Julie takes a long sip and lets out an easy sigh.
I let the mix of cinnamon and ginger wash away the last bit of heaviness.
Julie does too. After another sip, she returns to her assessment. "Imogen is smart and gorgeous, as we covered. Always in her head. So she needs someone more… living in the physical world. And, no, I don't mean sex. I mean this." She motions to the tattoos on my forearms. "You're an artist, so you can understand where she goes, but your art is on people's skin, so you understand actual things. That's what she needs. In my head, it was always a doctor, a surgeon, or someone with a very matter-of-fact specialty. Not an internist, you know?"
"Someone who deals in the literal but understands the abstract," I say.
"Exactly. And better that you aren't a doctor. Because she'd never date a guy our parents' want for her. Maybe that's why she dated Zack for so long. Because he was studying film and Mom hated that. They won't like the tattoo artist thing. But they don't like anything. Don't take it personally."
"I won't," I say.
"Or maybe… I don't know. Mom is so weird lately. She caught me vaping and stole my pen and started using it!"
"Maybe she wants to make it look uncool," I say.
"Yeah, but she's out there huffing nicotine every twenty minutes now." Julie shakes her head. "And, honestly, I think I smelled pot on her a few times. Can you believe that?"
Imogen's posture changes, but she doesn't say anything, and Julie doesn't notice.
"Do you talk to her?" I ask.
She looks at me funny. "Talk to my mom?"
I nod.
"Have you ever talked to your mom and asked why she was being weird?" she asks.
"No," I admit. "But I'm not as smart or mature as you are."
"Nice try." Julie laughs. "But I'm not that easy to flatter."
"Oh, I can do way better with flattery," I say.
She laughs again. "Probably. But we're getting off track. This is Imogen's first relationship in a while, and I think, as her only sister, I have a right to approve or disapprove."
"I'm on trial?" I ask.
"Nothing that official," she says. "But I have to make sure you're a good guy."
"Ignore her," Imogen says.
Julie shakes her head. "I have a few questions. Three."
"Shoot," I say.
"How did you meet?" she asks.
"She PMed me on Instagram with a tattoo request," I say.
"And you took advantage?" she asks.
"No," I say. "I was all business at first. We worked on the design, she came to the shop for work. You've seen her tattoo?"
Julie nods.
"It's a sensitive place. Hard to cover. She kept holding her boobs until I offered to make her a top out of tape. And she just dropped her hands and said, 'thank god' and looked at me like… it's okay to stare."
"Really?" Julie asks her sister.
"It wasn't torrid," Imogen says. "It was like he was a doctor."
"And it was okay for him to see you naked?" Julie asks.
"She's right. It's all skin," I say.
"So you didn't check out her hot bod?" Julie asks.
"I'm human," I say.
Julie laughs. "Okay, then?"
"When we checked out, she said, 'you've already seen me topless,' and wrote her number on the receipt."
"Really? What game! Damn Immy, that's good," she says.
"Did it really sound that seductive?" Imogen turns to us.
"Yeah," I say. "But I might have heard what I wanted to hear."
"No way. Imogen is always direct," she says. "It's scared guys before. So many guys act like it's a dream come true, you know, for a woman to use them for sex. But when it's someone as smart and cool as my sister, it's a problem."
"They're intimidated by her." I nod.
"She's kind of intense," she says. "I don't think she realizes it."
"I think she does," I say.
Imogen blushes.
"She's the one who texted me," I say. "Just like that. Straight up-booty call. 'I need help with after-care. Can you come over?'"