Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 102607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
And now, I’m seeing him again.
To “share custody of a cup.”
I reach for the perfume and spray it on my wrists. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing is going to happen.”
“Why? Please don’t push him away.”
I roll my eyes. “You don’t even know him.”
Poppy sighs as if she were irritated. “I don’t have to know him. I know you. And I think it’s time to stop pushing men away.”
“Stop it.” I do not push men away.
I just haven’t found one worth keeping around.
“You either get bored, or you find a reason to run,” she reminds me. “It’s like–the second someone gets close, you freak out.”
I cross my arms. “Maybe it’s because I have standards.”
Poppy snorts. “How many times have you said that out loud?”
A lot.
Way too often.
I slide into a pair of sleek, black heels. “Leave me alone.” I roll my eyes. “We’re friends.”
Poppy raises a brow. “You don’t do guy friends. Not the kind you think about for days after getting drinks with them. Not the kind you get dressed up for. Not the kind you—”
I grab my phone off the dresser and wave it in front of the screen before grabbing my cell phone. “Oh, gee—look at the time! Gotta go!”
“Bye, Starshine. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
How I regret telling her literally everything…
She winks at me.
I groan and hang up before she can say anything else—and as I step toward the door, my phone vibrates.
Luca: Running late. Don’t try to claim full custody while I’m not there.
I snort.
Nova: Wouldn’t dream of it, Ace.
I stare at the screen for a second too long, biting my lip.
Poppy’s voice echoes in my head. You don’t do friends like this.
I do not.
But I also haven’t had a solid relationship in a long, long time. Not one I would shed a tear for. Flings, yes. Friends with bennies? Yes. One-night stands? Of course.
The fact that Luca is forbidden? Does not help my nerves.
If anything, it makes them worse.
Because this isn’t about me. This isn’t just some random guy I could flirt with, kiss, have fun with, and never think twice about.
For one, I have to occasionally see him. Not to mention, the guy is literally plastered on a billboard on the freeway for a deodorant ad and I have to drive past him to go to the mall. He towers over the freeway like some Greek god of freshness and masculinity.
I check my phone again.
Luca: Almost there, Starshine. Try not to miss me too much.
I roll my eyes.
Nova: I was actually hoping you’d cancel.
Luca: Liar.
We’re meeting closer to my apartment—a space my brother bought for me with his first big NHL paycheck. I should be grateful. But it’s a constant reminder. No matter how much I try to be independent, Gio is always a step ahead, making sure I never have to be.
I order a car instead of driving, fidgeting the entire way to the steakhouse.
Adjust my neckline.
Fuss with my purse strap.
Look at my cell—not because I’m waiting for a text—because it gives me something to do with my hands. I fiddle with my social media apps, knee bouncing.
What is wrong with me?!
“I’ve already been out with him, this is stupid,” I mutter, loud enough for the driver to hear, because I thrive on embarrassment apparently.
The driver glances at me in the rearview mirror. I give a tight-lipped smile.
“Haha, I’m fine, definitely not having a mild breakdown.” I groan, willing myself to shut up.
Before I can abort this mission and kiss my Rainforest cup good-bye, the driver pulls up to the curb and tells me to have a great night.
I nod, slipping out of the car. Smooth down my shirt. Jeans. Tussle my hair. Adjust the hoops in my ears…
“Stiff spine, Nova. You are a Montagalo.” Chin up.
Chest out.
Ha!
Obviously, Luca is waiting for me by the hostess stand, the dark, moody interior of the restaurant a stark contrast to the kid-friendly café we’d had our first…uh. Meeting.
His eyes find me instantly. Lock. Freeze. Narrow, then widen.
“Whoa,” he says, his voice low and stunned. “Your hair.”
I lift a hand, fingers grazing the soft, wavy strands and give it a fluff.
His mouth curves, slow and suggestive. “You just unlocked a whole new level of gorgeous. This color is working for you. Hard.”
“You like?”
He steps closer, eyes roaming without apology. “If I wasn’t already in trouble with your brother, I’d say something wildly inappropriate right now.”
Aww. Sometimes he says the sweetest things.
“I mean, I was already planning to mercilessly flirt with you tonight. Now it’s going to be borderline illegal.” Luca pauses, eyes lingering in that devastatingly confident way. “I like blondes, but love brunettes.”
Of course he would say that. “You probably say that to all the girls who go from blonde to brunette to avoid an emotional breakdown.”
He only chuckles at me. “Only the stunning ones who would stab me with a salad fork if I mispronounce bruh-scedda.”