Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 90972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
It doesn’t help that he has been so gentle with me. More than that, he made me feel extremely good last night. And now he’s offered me protection. Something I’ve always yearned for. A protector. Could Kellen really be mine, or is that part only pretense, too? I don’t know. But at this moment, it feels real.
The second movie flies by, and before I know it, the ending credits are rolling.
“I could go without the glitter skin,” Kellen says.
“I actually was never a fan of that part either,” I admit. “Do you want to keep this marathon going, or are you tapping out?”
“I’m tapping out for now, but only because I’m hungry.”
At Kellen’s words, I realize I’m pretty famished myself.
Closing the laptop, I push it off my lap and climb off the bed. Kellen follows me, and together we leave my room to walk to the kitchen. I head straight for the fridge, opening it to find it barely has anything in it. I frown at the almost empty milk carton, jar of mayo, and half a stick of butter.
As I shut the fridge, I realize Kellen is already going through our cabinets, searching for food. He pulls out a can of green beans, glaring at it like he personally offended by it.
“Well, I’m not eating this.” He shakes his head and puts the can back inside the cabinet.
“I’m sorry,” I say, embarrassed by how little we have.
“Why are you sorry?” Kellen turns towards me. His intense gaze falls on me.
“I guess because I’m such a bad host. I can’t even offer you something to eat,” I explain.
“It’s fine. We could always order something,” he suggests, before getting out his phone. “What do you like?” He looks at the device in his hand and starts reading off a list of restaurants. “We got pizza, a burger place, Chinese food, or sushi?”
“Um, I don’t know,” I say, unsure. I would love some Chinese food but I’m hesitant to speak up. I can’t pay for this, and I feel bad expecting him to cover for me again. “I mean, you can order something for you. I’ll be fine.”
Kellen’s eyebrows draw together, his voice sharp when he talks. “Tell me what kind of food you want, or I will order everything.”
My shoulders sag. “I just don’t want you to have to pay for me again.”
Understanding flashes over his features. “I like paying for you,” Kellen admits. “I want to take care of you.” I’m not sure if he really means that, or if this is part of pretending. I’m not bold enough to ask, so I decide to just go with it.
“I love Chinese food,” I finally reveal.
Kellen smiles widely, seemingly satisfied with my answer. I tell him what I like, and he orders with his phone before we sit down at the kitchen table.
“Have you eaten at this place yet?” he asks, shifting in his chair like he can’t get comfortable.
“No.”
“Well, it has good reviews.” He props his elbows on the table and leans forward, the old wood creaking under his weight. “Do you know how to eat with chopsticks?”
“I’m not a pro at it, but I can manage to get some of the noodles into my mouth.” I laugh, hoping I’m not going to embarrass myself later.
“I won’t tell anyone if you use a fork,” Kellen says. “Though I always think the food tastes better with the chopsticks. Maybe that’s in my head.”
“Maybe I can test that theory today,” I offer. “I’ll try both and see which one tastes better.
Kellen’s face lights up with a smile. “I’m looking forward to your conclusion.”
I smile back at him, falling into the role of his girlfriend too easily. Why is this so easy to me? I’m genuinely having a good time talking to him, even smiling. My mood sours, shame blooming at letting my guard down like this.
The air shifts between us. I lean back in my chair, suddenly feeling the need to put space between us.
Kellen sighs. “You need to get out of your head. Stop thinking so much and just be here in the moment.”
“I’m trying,” I counter, my voice sounding tired and defeated.
“How about we come up with something like an alternative story?”
I give him a confused shrug. “What do you mean?”
“We could come up with a story of how we met,” he explains. “Like…maybe we met at the bowling alley?”
I give him a half-hearted smirk. “When was the last time you went to a bowling alley?”
“Okay maybe that was a bad example,” he admits. “But you get the point?”
“Yes, you want me to forget the past and replace bad memories with better ones.”
“You say it like that’s a bad thing,” he points out. “Wouldn’t you feel better forgetting and letting it go?”
Of course I would. That’s why I was giving in so easily. “Yes, but letting go of something is scary.”