Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 128417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“Well, I think you’re every bit as magical and fucked-up as your brother and then some.”
He laughs.
“I’m serious. I swear to God, if I’d been one of the girls who encountered you and Jonas during your travels, I would have gone for you, hands down.”
“Really?”
“Heck yeah. You’ve got that mischief in your eyes I can’t resist. Jonas is sweet and crazy, but you’re the bad boy—and I can never resist a bad boy.”
“Oh yeah? I’m a bad boy, huh?” He runs his fingertips up my bare thigh.
“Oh, yeah,” I say.
“Well, guess what? This bad boy’s suddenly hungry again, baby. You got any sweet potatoes over there? I’m thinking about macking down on some sweet potatoes a la pussy.”
“Oooh, sounds delish.” I smear the requested food all over my pelvic bone and clit. “Bon appetit, monsieur.”
Josh leans down and laps up the mashed potatoes off my pelvis, making me writhe, and then he devours my clit like a starving man on a Snickers bar. It feels insanely awesome, but there’s just no way I’m gonna reach orgasm.
After a while, Josh sits up from between my legs and stares at me. “Nothing?”
I shake my head. “Feels fantastic, but I can’t get there. Too stoned.”
He leans back. “Well, at least we look good, huh, PG?”
“Damn straight, we do, PB.” I flex my bicep and kiss it.
Josh laughs. “Okay, it’s official,” he says. “This sucks. No more weed for you. It’s been fun and all, super-duper fun, you’re hilarious—but it’s now abundantly clear I’m the idiot who turned a Ferrari into a fucking lawnmower. I should be taken into the woods and shot for doing that.”
I shrug. “You didn’t do it. I’m the one who sucked on the joint.”
“No, I’m the one who pulled it out and said, ‘Hey, PG, ya wanna?’ But I’ve officially learned my lesson. From here on out, I’ll never do anything ever again to keep my beautiful Ferrari from hitting top racing speeds like she was built to do.”
I sigh. “Probably for the best. But we had fun, though, didn’t we?”
“Fuck yeah, we did. Good times were had by all.” He smirks. “So, hey, PG, whaddaya say we take a shower and clean all the spinach and sweet potato out of your cooch and then roll around naked in my bed for a while? I wanna see if I can get my little Ferrari’s engine revving to full-throttle again, against all odds.”
“Sounds fun.”
“Everything’s fun with you, babe.” He kisses the top of my hand, pulls me up, and leads me toward his bedroom like a rag doll. He lets out a long, happy sigh. “Another fantasy checked off the list,” he mutters softly, seemingly to himself. He makes a sloppy checkmark with his finger in the air.
“We just fulfilled a fantasy?”
“Fuck yeah, we did. The very best one.”
“What was it?”
Josh beams me a goofy smile. His eyes are droopy and glazed. “Hottest Girl Ever Turns Out To Be Coolest Girl Ever.” He makes another checkmark in the air with his finger. “And she says we’re gonna be happy, happy, happy florebblaaaaaaaaaaaaah.”
32
KAT
My phone beeps with a text just as I’m walking through the front door of my apartment. I put down a stack of mail on my kitchen counter and check my phone.
“Hey, PG,” Josh writes.
My heart explodes the same way it does every time I see the name “Josh Faraday” land on my screen.
“Hey, PB,” I write back, grinning broadly.
Oh my God, being away from Josh this past week has been torture—I’ve literally been counting the hours until he lands in Seattle to visit me and meet my family. Just forty-eight more to go. Gah.
“Are you home from work yet?” Josh writes.
“Just got home this very second.”
“Cool. A package is being delivered to your apartment in exactly five minutes. You’ll have to sign for it personally. Wanted to make sure you’ll be there.”
“Five minutes? Lucky I’m here.”
“I’m a lucky guy.”
“Are you hiding in the bushes outside my apartment watching me?”
“No. But that’s a good idea. Note to self.”
“Why not bring this package with you when you come on Saturday?”
“Nope. This particular package had to be delivered to you TODAY.”
“Ooooooh! Is it youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu?!!” I write.
“LOL,” he writes. “No. Sorry.”
“Derby Field,” I reply. “Darn.”
“I gotta go. Just wanted to make sure you’ll be there for my package. T-minus four minutes.”
“So mysterious! Gimme a hint, PB.”
“Okay, one hint: good things come in very large packages.”
“OMG!!!”
“Namibia!!! What?”
“It’s youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!!!!”
“Nope.”
“Darn. I thought I was so smart. Waaaaah.”
“LOL.”
“Derby Field.”
“Haha. Bye, PG. See you in two days. Can’t wait. Enjoy your package.”
My heart melts. “Bye, PB. Can’t wait.” I add a heart emoji and a kissing emoji.
I stand and stare at my phone for a minute.
Oh my God. I’m a smitten kitten. A fish on a line. Done-zo, as Sarah would say. And the amazing thing is that Josh seems to feel the same way about me. Of course, I still don’t know where I stand with the guy beyond next week. There are no labels allowed, no relationship-status updates, no declarations of serious feelings—ha!—nothing ever assumed, planned, or implicitly promised more than ten days out (it’s kind of hard to put florrebblaaaaaah on the calendar). But still, as long as I stay in the moment and don’t wonder what might happen a month from now, everything’s fantastic. Better than fantastic.