Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
After, I insist on cleaning up the kitchen, which leads to our first argument. She insists it’s her job as the hostess and my counterargument is the universal rule that she who cooks does not clean.
“It was freaking RAGÚ,” she huffs.
“You’re even prettier when you’re mad,” I observe. “Just drink your beer and keep looking pretty.”
Winnie relents and leans against the counter while I make quick work of the dishes. It’s not that hard, because… bottled sauce.
“I saw your TikTok about your date with Chad.”
“His name was Nate.”
“Whatever. Mr. Multiplication Tables probably gives out gold stars for good eye contact during a date.”
Her lips press together, holding back a smile. “It was just for hummus.”
“That right there tells you all you need to know about the man,” I say with a pointed look. “But you said he was nice. Funny. That you liked how normal he felt.”
She watches me closely. “You jealous?”
“Yeah.”
The word hangs there. Blunt and honest.
Her eyes widen slightly, then soften. “You said you were okay with this being an experiment.”
“I was,” I say, stepping closer. “But now? I think it’s bullshit.”
She arches a brow. “Excuse me?”
“I think it’s bullshit because you already found someone worth dating. Me.”
She doesn’t reply right away, and I know she’s processing. I reach into my back pocket and pull out my phone.
“What are you doing?”
“I told you I made a list,” I say instead. “Of all the normal things I want to do with you. Sunday dinner with your family. Grocery runs. Folding laundry with bad TV in the background. Bringing you tea while you grade papers. Kissing you good-night like it matters. And that list keeps getting longer, which means I need more dates.”
She blinks, startled.
“So I’m going to fight for them.”
I open TikTok, hit record on a live stream.
“Hey, everyone, Lucky Branson here,” I say casually. “So, here’s the deal. Winnie—also known as the dangerously cute teacher I’m into—started this dating experiment to find one decent guy. I’d like to propose a counterchallenge. Four exclusive dates. Just me. Just her. No other guys. If she’s not convinced after that, I’ll bow out gracefully. But if she is?”
I glance at her.
“She deletes the experiment and gives real dating with me a shot. Hit me up in the comments and let me know what you think.”
I end the video, not even bothering to look at the comments that I know are already pouring in. I slide the phone into my back pocket.
Winnie blinks. “You just ambushed me on TikTok. Again.”
I shrug. “It was bold. But I meant every word.”
She steps in close, close enough that I can smell the vanilla on her skin and see the freckles across her nose. Her voice is barely above a whisper. “That was either very dumb or very romantic.”
“Can’t it be both?”
She doesn’t answer—just stares at me with those warm, hazel eyes.
I reach up, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, my thumb lingering on her cheek. “So that list… it’s pretty long.”
“Yeah?”
“It includes kissing you good-night like it mattered.”
“Oh,” she breathes out.
“I don’t feel like waiting though…”
Then I kiss her.
It’s not tentative. It’s not polite or unsure.
It’s a kiss that says I want more. That I’m done pretending this is a game. That I’m not going to lose her to hummus-loving men without putting up a fight.
She melts into me, arms winding around my neck, body curving into mine like she’s been waiting for this too.
When we finally part, she’s breathless.
“That…” she says, dazed, “was not normal.”
I grin. “I’m still me, Winnie. Can you accept the not-normal parts too?”
She’s quiet for a second, eyes searching mine. Her gaze flickers to my mouth and back up again. The heat between us is thick now.
She exhales slowly, like the answer’s been building in her all along. “I think I can,” she whispers.
And that’s all I need.
I dip my head and kiss her again—still not tentative and nowhere near teasing. It’s deep, claiming, threaded with everything I’ve been holding back since the first time I saw her on TikTok.
Her hands slide into my hair, her body softening into mine like she belongs there, like this isn’t the first kiss but our hundredth, our thousandth, every missed chance finally caught up to the present.
When we finally break apart again, her eyes are still closed, her lips parted like she’s trying to catch her breath and not let go of the feeling.
And fuck if I don’t feel the exact same way.
This is how it starts.
Not with normal.
But with real.
CHAPTER 15
Winnie
I’m barely out of my car when the morning gauntlet begins.
The carpool lane is backed up as per usual, minivans creeping forward like they’re a man afraid of commitment. I’ve got my coffee in one hand and my giant tote bag over my shoulder, trying to prepare myself mentally for the craziness of glue sticks that no longer glue and children who cannot for the life of them remember where their shoes go.