Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
“You have to make time for each other,” Katherine admonishes.
“It’s difficult,” Lucy says. “I’ve been really busy, and Hunter has . . . Well, you know what it’s like, Ed. When it’s your own business, it’s always going to be a priority.” I don’t know if she means it pointedly toward Ed, but that’s what I hear. She’s telling him how committed I am to Portis.
“Would you ever go part-time?” Katherine asks Lucy.
Lucy frowns. “I couldn’t afford to live if I went part-time.”
“No, but say you and Hunter got serious—no pressure—or if you met someone else. Would you reduce your hours to take the pressure off?”
Lucy glances at me.
“You love your job,” I say to her. “And things are going really well for you there, right?”
Lucy nods. “I do love it.” She glances up at Katherine tentatively. “I’ve had some really good feedback recently.”
“That’s great,” Katherine says. “But—”
“I’m not thinking about scaling back,” Lucy says.
This would be a perfect time for Lucy to tell Katherine about what’s been going on at work. But she doesn’t take the opportunity.
“Just be open to the idea,” Katherine says. “Our lives are so much less pressurized since Christmas. It takes away some of the stress.”
I wonder whether Lucy and I pretending to be a couple is as much of a lie compared with what Katherine’s telling us now. She’s presenting a perfect picture, but ten minutes ago, they were having a disagreement. Both of them have confessed to feeling serious pressure, part-time work or not.
“I’m focusing on work,” Lucy says, sliding her gaze toward me. She hasn’t told her sister about her conversation with the partner at work. I wonder why she’s not sharing it now. She should be proud of herself, but instead, she’s hiding this from Katherine. It’s not just our relationship that Lucy’s not being honest about, and I have to wonder how deep the lies go.
Chapter Twenty-One
Hunter
I slide into the Uber and gasp like I’m breathing air for the first time in hours.
“That wasn’t fun,” Lucy says. “Dinner with Katherine is always fun, but that didn’t qualify.”
“Yeah, it was a weird vibe tonight. Ed was on edge. But honestly, it was good to hear that he’s struggling to stay on top of work. Sometimes I wonder if he notices that he’s not as committed.”
“Please, God, when we have our fake wedding, let’s not make it a four-day affair at the venue of my mother’s choosing.”
I chuckle. “We can elope.”
“Honestly, the weekend on Martha’s Vineyard was so perfect, I’d like to do something like that.”
“I really think you should go part-time before I propose.” I grin at her, and she swipes me playfully on the arm. “You haven’t told Katherine about law school.”
She straightens in her seat. “Nothing to tell,” she says.
“You don’t think she would approve?”
“I don’t know.” She seems to think about it for a minute. “I don’t think my mom would like it.”
“Does she have to?”
She sighs. “It would be easier if she did. Then I wouldn’t have to hear about how I’m too focused on my career and men don’t like women who are too independent.”
“You think that’s what she’d say?”
“Probably.”
“Well, for the record, I think ambitious, driven, independent women are hot as all holy hell.”
Lucy presses her lips together to stop her smile.
I can’t resist: I reach over to cup her face and lean in to press a kiss to her full, soft lips. We’re sliding around on the back seat of a car. I just want to get out of here and touch her. The more I get to know her, the more I want her. Properly. I love the way she tries to protect Katherine. She’s such a loving sister, but my heart aches that she can’t be honest with her. And maybe that keeps her from being honest with herself.
The cab hits a pothole, jolting us apart.
“What are we doing?” she asks. “Why do we keep kissing each other? We know it can’t go anywhere.”
I have to reach into the far corners of my brain to remember why. Oh, yes, because we don’t want to make anything awkward when things between us inevitably end.
“I like kissing you,” I confess, reaching across the seat and threading my fingers through hers.
“I like kissing you too. I also like Hershey’s Kisses, but I have to resist those or I’ll make myself sick.”
“No ill health effects from kissing me.”
She presses her lips together like she’s trying to stop her smile and looks out the window, but she doesn’t let go of my hand, and relief washes over me. I don’t want her to let go. I’m not sure if I’ll ever want her to let go. I like her touching me. I like kissing her. I want more. I want to know her more. Kiss her more. Listen to every last thought in her head. We’re heading toward my apartment, which is sort of on the way to her apartment in Brooklyn. I insisted on booking the Uber on my account, so it’s paid for. But she doesn’t have to go across the bridge. She could come back to my place. We could kiss for hours. She could tell me more truths about herself. We could hold hands for the rest of the night.