Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 84952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Shit.
Do I really want to do this?
As alarm bells start ringing in my head, the door to Paddy’s opens.
Larissa walks in.
Jeans kissing her thighs, a jacket skimming the curve of her waist, and a smile on her lips that feels like it’s challenging me not to groan.
I’m not sure if she walks really fast or if my brain slows way down, but she’s at my table before I have time to get settled.
“I just realized something on the way over here,” she says as she sits across from me.
“And what might that be?”
She grins. She’s even cuter this afternoon than she was yesterday—and that’s quite a feat. Most women are much better looking in the evening hours than they are during the day. It’s some kind of law of the universe that’s never been fully explained.
“I realized that your little ploy of pretending to be my knight in shining armor was just that: a ploy,” she teases.
I lean forward and rest my elbows on the table. Her eyes dance as I peer into them. They’re clear and fresh with little lines coming from the corners that give her a playful energy.
“And how do you figure that?” I ask.
“Well, you told me that you were giving me your number in case I needed you for anything.” She sets her purse on the empty chair to her right. “But I bet you already knew you’d need me.”
“Untrue. Although I appreciate your confidence that I would choose you automatically.”
The corner of her lip turns upward. She mirrors my position by resting her elbows on the table.
“Was I your first choice?” she asks, her tone teasing.
“Absolutely.”
“Okay. I just wanted to make sure a list of women didn’t turn you down.”
“Sweetheart, no one ever turns me down.”
Her lips twist into an amused smirk. “I’m not sure if that means I should be the first or if I really have it in me to break your streak.”
I point at her, my finger bouncing up and down. “You are a funny one.”
She tosses me a wink.
Before I can say anything else, the waitress who brought me a drink earlier appears out of thin air. She asks Larissa if she wants anything. Larissa orders a tea just to be polite, I think.
Once we’re alone, she looks at me again. “What do you need from me?”
“Well, I have a little situation that’s not totally unlike yours from last night.”
She raises a perfectly arched brow. “You have an ex-girlfriend you want me to help you with?”
“No. When you put it like that, it’s totally different.”
“Well, when you put it like that, it makes me more likely to help you.”
She pauses and takes her drink from the waitress. After declining to order anything else, Larissa’s attention is all mine again.
“You were saying …?” She takes a sip.
“I got invited to dinner tonight, and it was implied that I should bring whoever is traveling with me. Only I don’t have anyone traveling with me. Hell, I don’t even know anyone in Savannah.”
“So I get the invitation because I’m the only person you know?”
“Yes.”
She sighs dramatically. “That makes a girl feel good.”
“Would you rather me lie to you?”
Larissa takes a second—a longer one than I expect—before answering. She makes a face like she’s disgusted, and the gesture makes my stomach tight.
“I just realized something else,” she says. “My first reaction was to say yes, I would rather you lie to me. But what does that say about me? Don’t answer that.”
I grin. “Although you asked me not to answer, I’d say it means you want someone to make you feel important. And I don’t think that’s a terrible thing to want.”
She balks. “What are you? A philosopher?”
“Nope. I’ll be getting a good ole bachelor’s degree in business administration with a minor in music appreciation.”
“I didn’t know music appreciation was a thing.”
“Yeah, well, I love music. All kinds of it. But I don’t play an instrument and don’t want to learn. This let me take all the music classes I wanted to without taking saxophone lessons or some shit.”
She laughs, the ends of her straight hair hitting the small of her back.
The anxiety I felt earlier is long gone and, in its place, is a feeling of manageability.
“So you need me to accompany you to a dinner tonight. Is that right?” she asks.
“Yeah.”
“And we’re going as friends?”
I suck in a long, deep breath.
Going as friends will probably work fine. But would it feel pitiful if I tell Landry that I picked up a random girl I just met and asked her to go with me? Because it seems like it would. And if there’s one thing I don’t want, it’s Landry’s pity.
“Friends is okay. But maybe we could pretend we’ve known each other for a while? You don’t have to want to fuck me, but maybe you didn’t meet me last night either. Make sense?”