Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
This was meant to be a get-together to celebrate them wrapping production on the new album. A very pregnant Anne is seated on the couch along with Lizzy and Ben. While Ev and David stand arm in arm in front of the fireplace. And Lena is pouring herself another glass of champagne from the selection of food and drink on the coffee table. All of the children are elsewhere for the occasion. As cute and fun as they are, it’s nice to have an adults-only night.
“Jude, face your nemesis, please,” says Mal.
I groan and turn back to the lead singer of Stage Dive, who is standing a full two feet away from me. Which is scarily close. The thing is, it turns out that my hideous teenage crush on Jimmy is the worst kept secret in existence. I don’t know exactly what they do in the recording studio. But gossiping definitely happens. The whole band and my boyfriend have been spilling the tea. And apparently, the person they have been gossiping about is me. Oh, the freaking shame of it all.
“Are we done yet?” asks Jimmy, flicking back his dark hair in a move worthy of the big screen. Though it lacks the dynamite sex appeal of when Dean does it. Harsh but true.
“No.” Lena retakes her seat on the couch. “We’re helping our friends. Stay there and do as you’re told!”
Jimmy just sighs.
“Sorry about this,” I mumble.
“It’s not exactly you’re fault.”
I turn to give my boyfriend a death glare.
To which he smiles and waves. “You’re doing great, babe.”
But Mal is not happy. “Stop distracting her, Dean. They’re meant to be staring at each other. This is serious immersive therapy we’ve got going on here. Right, Lizzy?”
“Immersion therapy,” says Lizzy. “But close enough.”
“That’s what I said.”
I stare at Jimmy. The grimace he gives me looks honestly painful. Poor dude. I think he would rather be sorting socks than standing staring at me. I know I would be. All I did was turn a little pink when I unexpectedly bumped into the man the other day. But Mal saw it and said something, and the menfolk discussed it, and now here we are. Without a doubt, this is one of the most embarrassing situations ever. Hands down. The clear winner. Malcom Ericson is the worst. My least favorite member of Stage Dive. Forever. It may seem harsh, but it is warranted.
“I think I’m good now,” I say, giving the audience a thumbs-up.
“No,” yells Mal. “Stay there. It hasn’t even been two minutes, and we’re aiming for at least five.”
“Maybe if we pointed out some of his flaws to her that would be helpful,” asks Dave with a bottle of beer in hand and an amused smile on his face. “Like how he has that small scar on his forehead from when he was running through the house as a kid and got distracted and ran into the corner of a wall.”
Mal shakes his head sorrowfully.
“Oh. I’ve got one,” says Lena. “His left ear is slightly higher than the other. And he refuses to eat broccoli which everyone knows is the best vegetable.”
“It really is,” agrees Anne.
“How about how clingy he is with his cars,” says Ev. “He just about babies them.”
Lena snorts. “He so does.”
Jimmy looks to heaven, but he is all out of luck. There is no help forthcoming. Not from on high and not from in here.
“He stole the last donut from the box the other morning,” says Dean. “Didn’t even ask if anyone else wanted it.”
“Where are your manners, dude?” Mal frowns. “That’s awful. I would never do that.”
“Yes you would,” says Anne. “You were teaching Tommy to grab the last cookie and run and hide just the other week.”
“Pumpkin. We’re all picking on Jimmy right now. This is no time for the truth.”
Anne sags back against the sofa, rubbing her ginormous belly. “Whatever.”
“I really do think I’m good now,” I say.
“Good is a strong word.” Mal steps closer and peers at me. “Good would be your crush transferring to a more suitable person such as myself. Talented, good-looking, I’ve got it all. You wouldn’t believe how amazing I am. I mean, check out my long blond hair. Beautiful, right?”
“Um. Yeah. It’s great, Mal.”
“Right? Better even than Chris Hemsworth when he’s playing Thor. I told him that, and he nearly cried. The dude is much more delicate than you’d expect for someone that size. But back to me. Let me demonstrate my hair for you.” Mal tosses his hair this way and that. “See what I mean? Look at that color and movement. And the texture is so soft.”
“Wow.”
He stops swishing his hair about and studies my face instead. Which I could definitely do without. Then he says, “But as for your thing for Jimmy, I’m not seeing any sign of lingering signs of fangirl behavior. No dreaminess in the eyes. Your hands aren’t even shaking with excitement at his presence. Though you are a little pink in the cheeks still.”