Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 91065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Huh.
Who would have thunk?
“How long were the two of you dating?” Curious minds want to know what his past relationship status was like.
“Probably a year? Maybe less, I can’t remember, we were young.” He pushes the empty baskets away so the bartender can collect them, signaling for another round. “Do you want anything?”
My drink is half-full, but the ice has started to melt and dilute it, so I nod. Why not?
We’re having fun, aren’t we? No reason to rush home; no one is there.
I watch as Dex speaks to the guy behind the bar. Their easy conversation has them both grinning.
Perhaps Dex isn’t the giant asshole I pegged him to be the first time we matched on Kissmet. Perhaps I misjudged him. Or maybe you went at him so hard and aggressively he was automatically on defense.
Yup. There’s that . . .
Guilty as charged.
Was I the asshole in this situation?
I gulp, reaching for the water glass that has been on the counter in front of me this whole time, the condensation making a watery mess of my hands.
I sip from it, debating. Maybe I should say something about my bad attitude a few days ago? I mean, it’s water under the bridge at this point. I don’t get the sense he is holding a grudge. He seems like a decent dude.
Dex is actually . . .
Great.
Deep voice. Ridiculously large hands.
He definitely smells incredible. I’ve been tempted to lean over and give his neck a whiff the entire time we’ve been sitting here.
Shit. Do not start fantasizing about him, Margot—he’s not into you. Well, maybe he is—it’s hard to tell—but the fact is, he made it clear he does not want to date someone with kids, and getting involved with a guy (and by involved I mean have sex with) who has made his boundaries clear would be a mistake.
Your mistake, not his.
Honestly, Dex is hard to read.
He’s friendly to everyone. Charming. Personable.
He’s chatty. Willing to share information.
He’s asking questions and answering them back.
Shit.
He is so damn good looking . . .
I lean forward to take the drink from the bartender’s hand when he walks it over, smiling and thanking him, at the same time sneaking a sniff of Dex.
He smirks. “Did you just smell me?”
“Pfft. No!” I do not sound convincing.
“I think you did.” He moves toward me. “Go ahead. Take another whiff.”
“Knock it off.” I shoo him away, scoffing, but my heart beats a little faster, betraying me and my good sense. “I wasn’t smelling you.”
Still.
Flirting isn’t a crime, and I could sure use the practice.
“You’re such a liar.” He grins, taking a swig from his new glass of beer. “It’s Blue Steel.” He tells me. “I’m their spokesperson.”
“Why does that not surprise me,” I droll, watching as he pulls his phone out of his back pocket and begins scrolling through the gallery.
“See?” Dex holds it toward me, forcing my eyes to the screen.
Forcing my eyes on the bare-chested photos of him, surrounded by a dark background, dim lighting, glistening skin.
Of course, he’s wearing boxer shorts.
He’s tan.
He’s . . . he’s . . .
Jesus. He’s perfect.
I swallow.
“Nice” is the best I can do, not wanting to gush or blush or make a fuss.
“I felt like a pig they were oiling up.” He laughs, tucking the phone away. “But I have a lifetime supply of cologne. And I bought my childhood best bud a condo with the money.”
A little pit forms in my stomach.
“That was very sweet of you.”
Dex takes another drink of beer, bobbing his head in a nod. “Yeah. Dude has been with me through thick and thin. He’s like the only family I have, besides Landon and a few other guys.”
I almost make an Aww sound. I almost simper.
Almost.
’Cause the truth is, Dex is making my heart beat faster and my palms begin to sweat and my brain feel a bit addled.
Damn him.
Damn him for being a great guy.
A small part of me wishes he was the asshole he was when we first started talking on the app, so I would have a reason to push him away.
“So.” His tongue peeps out of his mouth, running along his upper lip, licking the beer foam. “What’s your story?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean—what’s the deal with Wyatt’s dad? Or is that too personal?”
“He’s around,” I tell Dex. “In the picture, I mean. We got pregnant young, but we didn’t want to get married or stay in a relationship just because I was having a baby, so we broke up when I was around six months.”
Dex’s mouth moves. “Ah. So he pulled a Tom Brady.”
I don’t know what that means but go with it. “Sure.”
“No drama?”
“Nah, not really. I’ve only dated a few people in the last few years and no one that my family has met, so there hasn’t been an opportunity.” I take a sip of my cocktail. “I have no idea how he’d act if I had a boyfriend.”