Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 95340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Perfect.
I spritz myself with a bit of the fancy perfume Mom gave me for Christmas and turn halfway in the mirror to give myself another once-over.
My eyes stray to that spot in my closet where the squirrel had come through, any remnants of his existence gone. Wiped clean literally by Windex and a rag. He’d shit in a few spots, though luckily not on any bedding—and gnawed on some papers but not on the wooden furniture.
All in all, he was an exemplary houseguest, considering.
Sully is outside when I enter the yard, waiting on the front sidewalk. I glance around, looking for a car or a truck or some type of vehicle that we’re going to climb into so that I don’t have to walk. Not that it’s a huge issue because I’m wearing sneakers, but it’s a little cold outside, and I’m not wearing a jacket, so it would be nice to hitch a ride.
“Are we walking?” I ask with a bit of hesitation as I approach him. Please say no, please say no, please say no.
“I was planning on it?”
My shoulders fall, and I start hugging myself in the way that you hug yourself when you’re already a bit chilly and want to get warm. There’s no way I’ll make it downtown if that is where we’re going, if I have to walk to get there.
“I don’t have a car,” he confesses. “I used to have a crotch rocket, but I sold it. I don’t think we’re allowed to drive that shit, too dangerous.”
A crotch rocket? Do people still actually drive those death traps?
The wind kicks up and from the corner of my eye, I see a squirrel watching us so intently, I can almost see its little nose twitching.
Is that him? Is that the squirrel that lived in my bedroom for a whole night?
“I can drive.” I’ll do whatever it takes not to have to walk. Ha ha.
“Cool.”
Sully traipses along after me, and the wind kicks up again, sending a powerful shot of his cologne straight up my nostrils, and I wrinkle my nose. Too strong.
“Where are we going?” I ask when we’re in my car, then pulling out of the short driveway because I have to know if I’m turning left or right when I pull onto the road.
“I don’t know. Somewhere downtown?”
He doesn’t know.
Ugh.
Why does that not surprise me?
On the other hand, I don’t know this dude from Adam, but he doesn’t strike me as the planning type—he doesn’t even strike me as being organized. I steal glances at him as I drive, hoping he doesn't notice my fidgeting. It's our first date, and my stomach is in a bit of a knot, but it’s lessening the more he speaks.
He really is not my type…
I knew that last night when he asked me on a date, I knew it when my roommates and I were discussing it, and I’m sure of it now. So the tension in my shoulders relaxes, the pressure and anticipation slowly fading as I steer my car toward the downtown.
Mind made up, I take control of the situation and turn my car in the direction of the one place I can tolerate for a meal that’s not a complete dump, has decent food, and clean tables. After all, I got myself dolled up and have no desire to waste the pants that make my ass look bangin'.
We park.
Walk in, seat ourselves, order drinks.
“So,” I begin once the server walks to the bar to get my mojito and his beer, crossing my hands on the tabletop and shooting Sully the most adorable smile. “We managed to rid ourselves of the squirrel.”
“What squirrel?”
I laugh because he cannot already have forgotten the reason I was in his house last night?
“The squirrel that gnawed his way through my bedroom wall? The reason I was at your house, sleeping in Brodie’s room…”
Which was a great night’s rest, in case you were wondering. I slept like a baby, although I suspect he didn’t? When I woke up, he was balled up on that short couch at the foot of his bed. He must have moved there in the middle of the night while I was passed out…
“Oh yeah—that’s right, the squirrel.” My date smiles up at the server when she returns with our drinks, also setting down two glasses of water before waltzing away.
Sashay is more like it, if that’s even a thing.
Hips and rear.
Sully watches her go, and I watch him watch her.
“Is he still bothering you? ’Cause I can take care of him.”
I shake my head. “Naw. Landlord finally took care of it. The hole in my closet is patched up. I’m good to go.”
“There was a hole in your closet? How’d it get there?”
Wow.
He really does not pay attention…
Like. At all.
“How did the hole get in my closet? Uh. The squirrel.” I hesitate, already exhausted from this conversation. “Ask Brodie, he can tell you the backstory.”