Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Almost two hours had passed since the conversation about my parents, and I was still a little shocked that it had happened at all. I supposed I shouldn’t have been. It’s not like what I shared was groundbreaking or top secret. But I was always quick to change the subject when someone asked me about my parents.
Then again, most people were quick to let me.
The truth is not everyone wants to know you at the soul-deep level. A lot of friends want the shallow edges of you, the bright and brilliant parts that reflect light onto them and make them feel good. It’s rare to find someone who wants to sit in the darkness with you, who wants to hold space for the emotions you carry that aren’t always easy to sit with.
Braden had been that person for me today.
He’d caught me in a rare moment when I actually did want to talk about it, where I did want to share the burden of my feelings with someone who might give a shit. And maybe that was the biggest part of what made me open up to him — he legitimately seemed like he cared.
Or maybe I was a dumbass and blinded by his hotness, mistaking his question and insistence that I answer it for something more than it was.
Whatever the case, I felt a little lighter after sharing with him. The pain wasn’t gone. I’d never be free of the weight I carried when it came to my parents’ expectations, or lack thereof. But Braden had picked up one corner of that heavy ass dresser stuffed full of history and baggage and carried it with me for a moment — and it had been nice.
Now, however, I wanted to throttle the sexy sonofabitch because he was being supremely stupid.
“You don’t want this car,” I said, gesturing to the Toyota Camry.
“It’s a fine car.”
“It’s the exact same one you had before.”
“Precisely. Which means it’ll feel like home.”
“Yeah, if home were a can on wheels destined to bring down your fuckable score.”
“What exactly is my score at the moment, if I may ask?”
“Without this car, you’re a solid eight. With it, however, you sink to a five, at least.”
“Only an eight? You wound me.”
He covered his chest and stumbled back a bit, but then his smile fell and he turned to the saleswoman, who was glancing between the two of us like we were insane.
“I would love to get the paperwork going on this one. Thank you,” he said to her.
“Actually, he would like to get the paperwork going on the 2024 Bronco Sport that we test drove before,” I interjected, pinning the saleswoman with a sweet smile that I turned to Braden next before mirroring his words. “Thank you.”
“No,” Braden said, and the way he snapped the word with authority sent a delicious shiver down my spine.
This fucking man and the way he makes my insides twist up into a thousand knots.
“Yes,” I combatted.
“It’s out of my budget.”
“Your budget is dumb.”
“It’s twice the price of the Camry.”
“And the Camry is twice as old with three times the miles on it.”
“This isn’t your decision to make.”
The poor saleswoman cleared her throat, clasping her hands together behind her back before she backed away with a hesitant smile. “I’ll give you two a moment to talk.”
Braden smiled at her in return before firing a glare at me once we had space to ourselves. “What the fuck, Emily?”
“Braden, stop being dumb. See? I can use your name, too.”
He flattened his lips. “Charming.”
I sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be abrasive — even though I realize that is exactly what I’m being.”
“I would have said brat, but abrasive is close enough.”
I ignored the jab, focusing on the task at hand. “I realize we come from different backgrounds, okay? You’ve mentioned that you help your family out and I’m the exact opposite. It’s my parents footing most of my bills — especially on dancer wages. But,” I continued, pointing at the car Braden was trying to buy. “You don’t want that crappy Camry and you know it.”
“I told you, I like the car fine.”
“Not as much as you like that Bronco.”
“Which I shouldn’t have test driven in the first place. I only did so to make you shut up.”
“There are much more fun ways to make me shut up, for the record.” I held up a finger with a teasing smile, but apparently this was not the moment to make sex jokes because Braden wasn’t having it. I huffed. “Look, I know you want that Bronco. You lit up when you were behind the wheel. You were like a kid in a candy store with all the buttons inside it — probably because you’ve been driving a car that still had a cassette player in it.”