Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 129110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
For one thing I thought he'd have texted me by now. I really did.
I hold onto that day for dear life but after every heart fluttering recap I’m reminded how he’s not. I guess to him I was fleeting. Of course I was. He’s a big shot celebrity and I’m not anything. Anger and disappointment, and maybe a hint of mortification wash over me because our day together meant way more to me than it did to him.
I turn to another magazine. This one also has his picture, only Sabrina Wilson is on it too. They’re in this sexy pose. He would never be interested in me like that.
Crap was I right all along? Was I just some science experiment to him?
I almost want to buy the magazine so I can rip it into to shreds, but he looks too beautiful. I could never ruin something so magnificent.
I remind myself how of course this meant far more to me. He hasn’t been swooning over me for the past gazillion years.
God, he's even a far better actor than I thought.
As soon as I get home I start work on the bathroom. First task: taking down the old outdated towel rack.
Something about removing it is oddly freeing, even though it’s just a stupid towel holder.
Maybe this should be my future occupation - DIY guru. I could go on one of those home TV shows, maybe even as a host. Then one day maybe I'd run into Asher Montgomery again and he'll see how well I’m doing.
How I'm no longer sad or clueless.
What day spent together? I’ll say, like it meant nothing.
My new career is short lived. I successfully remove the old holder but can’t figure out the stupid hooks.
Frustrated, I give up.
I remain sprawled out on the cold tile floor with screws, tools, and metal pieces everywhere for an undisclosed amount of time.
There are no less than five holes in the wall that shouldn’t be there. I’ve lost a war with this crap nickel. And newsflash, a level doesn’t work if the whole damn wall is crooked!
“What the fuck is going on in here?” Travis pops his head into the bathroom. It completely startles me. For a second I actually start to reach for the hammer.
Shit I've been laying here longer than I thought, so lost in my own mind that I didn’t even hear the door.
“Hi!” I fail at sounding chipper.
“This isn’t funny. What the fuck are you doing? Aside from making a mess.”
“Trying to change the towel holders?" I take a deep breath. Don't get worked up over his attitude. “Wanna help?”
“Argh!” he throws whatever he was holding at the wall behind me.
Great. Effective communication.
He spins back around and I know my night and mood are about to get a whole lot worse.
“All I wanted to do was relax tonight and now you went and fucked that up!” his voice makes me cower.
“There’s no reason to yell!”
“Shut up. I’m not,” he frowns, then groans. “Let me eat dinner and then I’ll fix your mess.” He storms out and I sigh.
Lately I’ve been playing out scenarios in my head on how these sort of situations could have been approached better from both ends. It’s a self-help suggestion my therapist gave me. Thus far though it’s done nothing but leave me even more depressed because I really don't feel like I did anything wrong.
When Travis walked into the bathroom he could’ve not made this small issue into a huge ordeal. Maybe he could’ve kissed me hello. Maybe he could have not made me feel bad about trying to update the apartment. Maybe he even could’ve told me not to worry and that he’ll make everything better. We could’ve even hopped in the shower and… and... and maybe Asher could have texted me.
No.
Argh!
Me. What could I have done?
I think about how I could have made the first move. I could have gotten the shower thing going, but he was already upset. I was already put off by his attitude. There wasn't even a hello. Plus, I’m done being the one who initiates.
One can only get rejected so many times without taking it personally.
I rest my head against the shower door and let myself return to my dream world. Asher would have never reacted like that. He would have been friendly. He'd smile that smile. The one that ignites his eyes. Emerald green. They'd be sparkling. We'd talk about our day. He would have made some joke about the holes I made or teased me for sure. He would have been willing to help without a second thought... only, oh... he finds it difficult to get anything done because he can’t take his hands off of me. I close my eyes and his laugh washes away every one of my worries as he leads me into the shower. The warm rush of water hits my skin as my clothes land on the floor. We've forgotten about the stupid hooks.