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)
The words reach me, but I watch her expression, that mixture of vulnerability and resolve. She tells it like she sees it, wondering if she’s where she belongs.
“But I do belong here with him.”
That’s the part I focus on, because that’s all that matters. As long as she can see the good down the line, I know Winnie is strong enough to withstand the negativity.
Still, I’m dreading the comments, and my stomach tightens as I read through them.
@truthhurtsalways: You do realize this pity party doesn’t make you relatable—it makes you desperate.
@glam4days: Girl, if you can’t handle the heat, maybe don’t date someone famous for clout.
@realonesonly: Okay but why is she acting like a victim? You’re literally dating a millionaire hockey player.
@brutalhonesty101: This is what happens when average girls think they’re main character material.
@facecarddeclined: No offense, but you look rough. Maybe stick to private breakdowns next time.
I can’t read anymore, fury sweeping through me. My eyes rise to meet Winnie’s, who stares back at me with a curious expression. “I’m sorry… there are some absolute douches in this world.”
She lifts a shoulder. “I know this is part of it. I know what you and I signed up for with this, and it’s not all bad. It’s just… a little hard to read sometimes. I think I might stop looking at the comments.”
“We can stop posting about this dating experiment, Winnie. Neither of us has to prove anything to anyone.”
Her smile lights up her eyes. “I know and thank you for that. And it’s a good option, but I’d like to see it through. My followers—the ones who support me—love this content. I don’t want to let them down.”
I nod, handing her phone back. She plugs it into the bedside charger and I lift the covers to beckon her in. She doesn’t blink at my nakedness and I think it’s adorable she’s wearing pajamas. She yawns as she scoots into me and I pull her halfway onto my body so her head rests on my chest.
One arm around her, I give her a squeeze. “What do you want to do for our third date tomorrow?”
We’d agreed to do something since I’m leaving on the road trip the next day.
“I’m open to anything,” she replies. I hear the fatigue in her voice and she has to get up early tomorrow. Maybe I shouldn’t keep her awake all night with sex.
“How about you invite me over to dinner to meet your parents? I know you normally have dinner on Sundays, but since I’ll be gone, maybe tomorrow?”
Her head lifts and she’s clearly surprised. “You want to meet my parents?”
“I mean… isn’t that what people do when they’re dating?”
“Yeah… at some point. But like… are you sure?”
“Oh, I’m sure. I’ve got two more dates to wow you with my complete normality. Meeting the parents is a classic.”
Winnie shakes her head, chuckles and then settles back against me. “Okay… I’ll call my mom tomorrow and see if they’re available.”
I don’t fall asleep right away, but Winnie drifts off fast. After about fifteen minutes, I ease out from under her and she rolls onto her stomach. I nab my phone from my pants pocket and pull up TikTok. I open Winnie’s profile and don’t bother watching her last video again, instead going straight to the comments.
I settle back down against the pillows, angling slightly away from her so the light doesn’t wake her up.
@icequeenxo: She’s clearly not built for this world. Crying in a bathroom? Embarrassing. Weak.
I consider the words, trying to tell myself to be nice. And then I respond.
@LuckyBranson: You’re entitled to your opinion, but here’s mine—Winnie’s the strongest person I know. Vulnerability isn’t weakness. It’s honesty. And I’ll take real over perfect any day.
I post it and move on to the next comment.
CHAPTER 22
Winnie
Lucky opens my door for me and offers his hand as I slide out of his Tahoe. There’s not a doubt in my mind that my entire family is watching from the living room window, but I don’t look that way.
Instead, my gaze falls on my hand joined with his. He holds it with propriety as we turn for the sidewalk. His hand is warm in mine as we walk up the path to my parents’ front porch. The air is chilly, but thanks to the man standing next to me, it doesn’t bother me in the slightest.
He pretty much makes me warm all the time.
I’ve dated a lot. It’s true.
It’s also true that my standards are very particular. Not necessarily too high, but I seek safety in my choices. Normal is safe. Average is secure.
In all my dating history, I’ve never felt comfortable enough with someone to hold hands after only a few weeks. For me, it’s an intimate act, and yes, Lucky and I have been intimate in the closest of ways. But holding hands is more of a statement and I know my parents are analyzing it.