Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“Noho’s.” She grinned.
“We can make that happen.”
“You’re the best.”
“Then the bar must be super fuckin’ low.”
“You’d be surprised.” Turning in her seat, she bent her leg and tucked her ankle beneath her other knee. “I’ve been with some nice guys, but most of them are shit. The dating scene is rough.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“What, you don’t date?” she asked curiously. “I thought you and Lou—”
“I’ve been on dates,” I clarified. “Maybe I’m one of those shit guys, though, because it’s usually only a couple, and then things fizzle.”
“Oh, no,” she whispered dramatically. “We’re on borrowed time.”
“Why, you gonna ghost me?”
“It sounds like you’re the one doing the ghosting,” she argued. “Because I can tell you that you are not a shit guy, and also that women would put up with a shit guy if he fucked the way you do.”
I choked on the sip of coffee in my mouth.
“So, it’s clearly you doing the ghosting,” she finished, pleased with herself.
“Thank you?” I wheezed. “I think? But, with that logic, you should have a ring on your finger by now.”
“I know, right,” she said, smiling hugely. “I’m excellent in bed.”
“Truth.”
“And I haven’t even sucked your dick yet.”
“Woman, I’m trying to drive,” I shot back, shifting in my seat. “Don’t say that shit.”
“What? I’m great at blow jobs.”
“Unless you wanna give me one now, stop talking about it,” I joked.
When I glanced over, she had a contemplative look on her face.
“You’re not suckin’ my dick in this truck,” I said firmly. “That was a fuckin’ joke.”
“Why not? The bench seat would make it really easy, if you think you could manage driving while I’m doing it.”
“Because this is your dad’s truck. The truck I worked on with your dad.”
“And?”
“I respect him.”
“You’ve already fucked me. A lot.”
“Not in this truck.”
“Men are weird,” she said with a sigh.
“You’re the weird one,” I joked. “Tryin’ to defile your dad’s truck like that.” I patted the steering wheel.
“I’m guessing that this truck has seen a lot of bare asses,” she replied dryly. “My mom’s and dad’s most recently.”
“And that’s a vivid picture I coulda done without.”
“Have you ever had sex in a car?” she asked curiously.
“Nope.”
“For real?”
“I didn’t have a car before I left Portland,” I replied. “Didn’t even have my license.”
“Damn.”
“First thing I bought was a bike.”
“The one you have now?”
“Nope. An old piece of shit that I fixed up and sold to buy the one I’ve got now.”
“Playing the long game.”
“You know it. Have you?”
“Oh, yeah,” she replied with a chuckle. “The summer after high school. Me and my boyfriend used to go park any place that we wouldn’t be noticed. At the river, in the woods, the Walmart parking lot.”
“No.” I laughed.
“Oh, yeah. We both lived with our parents. His mom stayed at home, my mom worked from home—there was never a bed available in an unoccupied house. Ah, memories.”
“I got pretty good at doin’ it against walls,” I informed her, looking over as she giggled. “Every wall had potential unless it had ivy growin’ on it.”
“Scratchy?”
“Bugs,” I corrected. “Ask me how I know.”
“Oh, no,” she groaned.
“Not sure if she screamed louder or I did.”
“You’re afraid of bugs?”
“Not normally. When you see a big-ass beetle in your girl’s hair about two inches from your nose, it’s a different story.”
“Oh, gross.”
“Very.”
“She never fucked you again, did she?”
“She did not,” I answered, making her laugh. “She found a guy whose parents didn’t give a shit if he brought girls home.”
“I was always jealous of those kids,” she said with a sigh. “My parents would never.”
“Bernice wouldn’t either,” I replied.
“Was she strict?”
“In some ways.”
We spent the rest of the ride talking about the things we’d gotten away with and the things we hadn’t, and for the first time in years, I talked about Bernice. I’d mentioned her in passing a few times to Lou and Myla, but it had always been in a way that didn’t invite further discussion. With Harper, the stories seemed easy to access and easier to say out loud. Maybe it was because we were on our way to deal with my past, and that’s what had broken the dam, or maybe it was just Harper. Talking with her was simple. She didn’t push. If I ended a story without finishing it, she just moved on to the next thing.
I found street parking easily outside the Concord and Ford law offices and immediately wondered where in the hell Bernice had found the money to pay for what looked like a thriving law firm. The street was clean, and the businesses around the office were all upscale. It wasn’t the law firm operating out of an old house that I’d imagined.
“I can just wait here,” Harp said, glancing out the window.
“No,” I replied, getting out before she could argue.
There was no way I was leaving her out on the street when we had no idea who’d fucked with her car. It didn’t matter that we were two hours away from home.