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)
I open my mouth to say something, but I’m speechless. He’s a freaking poet, unafraid to put his heart out there. I’m frankly stunned and can do nothing but try to keep my jaw from sagging further.
“So, yeah,” he says with a wink at the camera. “Shout-out to kindergarten teachers who moonlight as emotional support humans.”
I groan and turn slightly to swat at him. “You did not just say that on my channel.”
“Too late.” He grins.
I end the video with both of us laughing, his arms locked around me. How can this be real and still feel like a fantasy at the same time?
CHAPTER 17
Lucky
Winnie’s hand grips mine hard as we follow the maître d’ through the restaurant. I feel the tension exiting her body and flowing into mine.
“Everyone’s staring,” she whispers.
I squeeze her hand. “They’re staring at you. And why wouldn’t they… because damn, girl… that dress.”
She makes a scoffing noise low in her throat and I glance down at her, which is dangerous because she doesn’t look a thing like the Winnie I’ve come to know.
The emerald-green dress is fitted to her curves with a V that dips just enough to make me think things I probably shouldn’t be thinking in public. Her hair’s down, smooth and shiny, brushing her shoulders like it knows it’s part of the presentation. Her makeup is glamorous, highlighting bone structure that takes her from freshly pretty to bombshell.
“So, you’re saying you like what I’m wearing,” she teases as we arrive at the table.
I beat the maître d’ to the chair, pulling it out for her. I make a point of looking her up and down, lifting a shoulder. “You clean up all right.”
“Just all right?” She laughs, sitting with a wink. “That’s dangerously close to average.”
I grin and slide into my seat across from her, taking the large leather menu in hand. “You’re the statistical outlier, Shaw. The rest of us are just trying to keep up.”
We chat about her workday after the waiter takes our drink order—she gets a glass of red and I stick with sparkling water. We peruse the menu together, choosing courses we’re both interested in so we can share. She tells me about Sadie’s latest reading obsession and a kid in her class who insists his dad is Spider-Man. I tell her about a bet in the locker room involving Flamin’ Hot Cheetos and a jockstrap that I wish I could unsee.
“This is beautiful,” she says, glancing around the low-lit space. White linen tablecloths, flickering candles, an actual piano with pianist tucked in the corner. “Do you bring all your TikTok girlfriends here?”
“Only the exclusive ones,” I reply.
She laughs and reaches for the bread basket. “So I’m number what—twelve?”
“Nah.” I watch the way her fingers tear into the roll. “Just number one.”
That earns me a side glance. Warm. Curious. Like she’s not sure if I’m being serious or charming, and the truth is, I’m both. “I can honestly say I’ve never brought a woman to an expensive, high-end restaurant for a date before.”
Winnie pauses, a piece of bread halfway to her mouth. “You’re kidding?”
I rub at my jaw and give her a sheepish smile. “I’m not sure if that makes me look good or bad to you.”
She shakes her head as if saying, I’m not thinking bad of you. “I guess I sort of thought…” She looks around at the setting before her gaze comes back to me. “That this is normal for you.”
I look around as well and I see what she sees. The linen’s crisp enough to make a sound when you touch it. The crystal glasses sparkle. The butter is shaped into tiny roses and there’s gold leaf on the dessert menu. All easily affordable for me, so I get where she’s coming from.
“I eat in restaurants like this all over the world. But I’ve never brought a date to one.”
“I’m not tracking why you wouldn’t.”
I lean forward and cross my arms on the table. “You’ve never asked me about my past relationships. I know you were in a serious one and he cheated, but you’ve never shown any curiosity about mine.”
Winnie ducks her eyes and I can’t tell from the candlelight’s glow if her cheeks are red. “I didn’t want to be intrusive.”
“Jesus, Win,” I exclaim with a dip of my chin. “Why would that be intrusive?”
Her face scrunches as she contemplates that. “I don’t know… I guess I didn’t want you to think I’d set my sights on a serious relationship. Or that I was trying to take advantage of you. If I ask about it, you might think I’m plotting.”
Admittedly, that both charms me and feels like a strike to my soul. I don’t think I’ve ever given her the impression that she’s a gold digger or fame seeker. “I’m an open book, so you can ask me anything. And since you seem shy about doing it, I’ll just tell you… I’ve never dated anyone seriously.”