Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 102620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
“I know, I’m sorry.” I hang my head. “It was a bit crazy this week and…”
“And you’ve been spending all your free time with Caleb.” She snickers. “What is wrong with you?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, “I just feel—”
“Oh my God, it was a couple of dates. I have food in my fridge longer than I dated him,” she groans. “So you need to stop this bullshit and tell me, did you guys do the deed?”
“No.” I shake my head and look at myself in the mirror. “But tonight is the night, he’s taking me on a date.” I take a deep, deep breath. “A real proper date.” I put my hand on my stomach to quiet the butterflies that have suddenly come on full force.
“Ohhhh, the tea is hot,” she teases me.
I laugh at her. “That is not what that means. The tea is piping hot when you have gossip the other person doesn’t know.”
“You going on a date with Caleb is gossip I didn’t have. I did have the gossip that he’s at your house every single night.”
“From who?” I gawk, shocked, before walking over to my shoe rack, deciding to take out the big guns tonight. The stiletto heels that kill my feet and pinch my toes but make my legs look sexy as fuck.
“From everyone who is watching,” she announces as I slip a foot in one shoe and regret my choice already.
“That’s creepy. But, yes, we’ve spent every single night together, making out and doing nothing else.” I try not to groan out in frustration, but I fail.
“That has to be the longest foreplay of life.”
“You are telling me this? I’ve never been so on edge in my life.” I slip the other shoe on. “But tonight is the night, and I’m going to get lucky.”
“Well, we can talk about it tomorrow. Let’s meet for coffee.”
“I can’t,” I tell her sadly. “Apparently, I’m going to be naked until Monday morning. His words not mine, but”—I cross fingers on both hands—“fingers fucking crossed he’s serious.”
“That’s gross.” She acts like she’s going to throw up.
“You literally wanted to get together tomorrow to discuss it.”
“Yes, but that’s one night. Now I know it’ll be all weekend long.”
“I said fingers crossed,” I remind her when the doorbell rings, and I look over my shoulder. “Got to go. My date is here.”
“Get it, cowboy.” Lilah laughs.
“Pregnancy has taken all your cool points with it.”
“I know”—she pretends to cry,—“it’s very sad. Yesterday, I called the vagina a cooter to Lucy, and she looked at me, and I thought she was going to vomit on my shoes.”
“Oh, Jesus.” I rush out of my bedroom, not having a chance to take a final look at myself before I hear the door open. “I’ll call you Monday, and we can have an emergency meeting about getting your cool card back.”
“Thank you,” she replies. “Have fun tonight, and be safe.”
“Thanks, momma, now I gotta go. He’s here, and I have to make a grand entrance that has him eating his tongue, or whatever that saying is,” I whisper and then hang up on her.
“Baby!” he shouts from the door. I take a big deep breath before I start to walk toward the door. The click-clack from the heels sound on the hardwood floor as I close my eyes for one last time before making my grand entrance, of sorts. I tuck the phone in my purse, which only has my ID and lip gloss.
“I’m ready,” I say when I get to the top of the U-shaped stairs, looking down at him. My mouth waters with how fucking hot he is. He’s wearing black jeans that fit him just as perfectly as all the other ones. I take the steps down toward him, my eyes going to his package and seeing that it’s something I’m going to enjoy unwrapping later. His long-sleeved black button-down shirt opens at the collar, showing me his neck. His sleeves are rolled up until the middle of his forearms, showing me his tats and the silver Rolex I’ve only seen him wear one other time.
“Holy fucking shit,” he swears when I get to the bottom step and walk to him, “you can’t go out like that.” He points at me, and I look down at my own outfit. Did I go all out? Yes. Did I choose what I thought was my sexiest outfit that wasn’t lingerie? Also yes. Did I want to forget he said he was taking me out on a date and come down naked wearing just the shoes? Also yes. Was I going to torture him until he snapped? You bet your fucking ass I was. “You can’t go out in that.”
I look down at the black leather miniskirt I bought a while ago, probably hoping for this moment right here. The slit on the side shows you even more leg. The white lace top leaves very little to the imagination, and if we were staying home, I would wear it with no bra underneath to really push his buttons. However, since he’s taking me out, I paired it with a white satin bra. The long sleeves are cuffed at the wrists and then fall out around my fingers. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”