Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
She crosses her arms over her chest and all it does is make her breasts smash together, highlighting the cleavage. Like an idiot, I lick my lips. And thank God for baggy jeans because I’m pretty sure my cock is filling with blood right now, growing uncomfortably hard.
“Yeah,” she murmurs. “I just, thought maybe I misunderstood.”
Not sure how she can get confused. Surely, she sees herself in the mirror each morning. Probably has people tell her all damn day.
“How was work?” Again, I really, really suck at talking. Kill me now. “Any good cases?”
Thankfully, she brightens at my question. “It’s great. I love helping people. Physical therapy is a great way to hear people’s stories. It’s very intimate, you know?”
All I can do is focus on how her pretty lips move and words come out. How do men survive when she’s their physical therapist? The idea of her dainty hands rubbing all over me is enough to have me stifling a groan.
“Cool,” I mutter.
Cool?
If only my legs would move, and I could run far away from my stupid mouth.
“Yeah.” She tucks a blonde strand of hair behind her ear and looks at me from beneath her thick lashes. “How’s painting going?”
At least she’s throwing me a bone. Literally. I clasp my hands over my crotch, so she doesn’t notice.
“It’s going to need a few coats,” I tell her as I think about Gordon’s old place. “It reeks of smoke. I’m going to have to rip up all the carpet too.”
Is she bored to tears yet?
Why is she lingering when I’m so fucking bad at carrying on a normal conversation?
“Sounds intense.”
I nod because this chat with her is intense. Being so close to her I can smell her scent is intense. Staring down at her sexy cleavage is intense.
“Want a drink?” I ask, voice gritty again. “Kevin brought a keg. Can’t promise it’ll taste good.”
“You’re still a baby,” she says, lips curling into a teasing smile. “And there are police here. You sure you can drink?”
Her teasing puts me at ease. Playfully, I scratch at my jaw with my middle finger. This makes her giggle which makes me grin.
Okay, man, this is better.
Relax.
I motion for her to follow me, and my legs begin working again. Once at the keg, I fill a red solo cup with the warm beer and hand it to her. Her fingers brush against mine sending jolts of electricity through me.
With heat burning my face, I hide my reaction to our touch to fill up my own cup. It’s a long enough distraction to hide my obvious attraction to her.
Casey Monroe is way out of my league.
Flirting with her is just cruel to my heart.
Is that what we’re doing? Flirting?
Poor Savvy. Little does she know, I’m about to unload this entire evening on her later because I need advice. I don’t date girls because they’re not interested in the quiet, awkward guy with no life. I certainly don’t date women.
Casey is all woman.
When she’s been with a good looking, muscular guy like Derek, it’d be stupid to think she’d downgrade to someone like me.
“So,” she says and then sips her beer.
“So,” I mimic. “I’m sorry. If you want to go talk to someone normal, go ahead.”
She giggles again. The sound is sweet and genuine. I want to hear it a lot more. It’s better than the crying I sometimes hear coming from her place.
“You’re funny.” She glances over at Clara who’s flirting heavily with Travis, but he’s clearly not interested. “I’d rather be talking to you. Clara is making it her mission for me to get over Derek.” Her shoulders tense up. “Sorry. I know you don’t want to talk about that.”
“I want to talk about whatever you want to talk about,” I say too quickly. God, I sound so desperate. “I mean, or whatever.”
She flashes me a grateful smile. “You’re sweet.”
Funny. Sweet. Datable?
“Now that you’re officially an adult,” Savvy says, “what are your big plans? You graduate soon. College? Trade school?”
The hope I had flaring inside of me is dashed by her questions.
I have no big plans.
I’m not going to college like she did.
I’ll still be doing the same thing I’m doing, but without school, I can do it full time.
“My cat is missing,” Maggie announces from the doorway as she enters. “Brayden, I need your help.”
I’ve never been so grateful for that old woman in my entire life.
For once, her interruption is welcomed.
Casey
Meow.
I have a cat now.
A stolen cat.
My little stowaway zipped inside when I came home last night, finding refuge under my bed. It was the same cat I’d seen running from Maggie the other day. It was also the one she was later searching for, stealing the birthday boy away from me when he went to help.
Boy is right.
I can’t believe I allowed myself to flirt with him. Clara’s influence is ridiculous. Listening to her has embarrassing consequences.