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)
“More so? Really? How do you figure?”
“Because you must have stayed with a woman like that for a reason. You must have known deep down she was every bit as incapable of emotional intimacy as you are. You liked that she never required you to reveal a goddamned honest thing about yourself in three freakin’ years.”
He looks shocked.
I press my lips together. Oh shit. I just dropped another one of my atomic bombs, didn’t I? Oh fuck. That was harsh. Honest, but harsh.
I just can’t help myself. Ever since reading Josh’s application (and seeing Emma’s beautiful, shy photo in Josh’s Sick Fuck folder), I’ve had somewhat of a fixation on this Emma bitch. On the one hand, I’ve felt the primal urge to rip her limb from limb for hurting Josh. And, on the other hand, I’ve honestly been a bit obsessed with trying to figure out why the heck he stayed so long with a woman who was so obviously his total mismatch in every way (other than the fact that she’s literally the most stunningly beautiful creature I’ve ever seen).
Josh looks floored. Pissed, I’d even say.
“Damn, that drink you made me was really, really strong,” I say, my face turning hot.
Josh’s jaw muscles are pulsing like crazy.
Shit. Maybe I’ve totally misjudged this. Maybe he can commit. Hell, maybe he was on the verge of asking Emma to marry him, for all I know. Oh, jeez, yes. Maybe that’s why he now says marriage isn’t in the cards for him? Is Josh just a case study of a man with a shattered heart? But, clearly, I can’t ask him if he was about to propose. It’s too sensitive. I opt for something slightly more innocuous. “So did you and Emma live together?”
Josh makes a face I’m not expecting, like he’s embarrassed about what he’s about to say. “No. It was a long-distance relationship. She lives in New York.”
Oh, Sweet Jesus. Is he frickin’ kidding me? “It was a long-distance relationship?” I boom, totally shocked.
“Yeah. So?” he says, clearly defensive. “I get out to New York all the time for work. I saw her a lot.”
There’s a very long silence.
Josh’s face is bright red.
I’m sure mine is, too.
James Bay is singing to us about scars.
I feel like I’ve said way, way, way too much. My inner-bitch just came out full-force. God, I suck sometimes. “So... what’s your favorite movie of all time?” I ask brightly. “If you could be anyone from *NSync other than Justin Timberlake, who would you be? Do you have a spirit animal?”
“You’re not what I’d call the world’s foremost expert on relationships,” Josh says, his voice low and intense. “I wouldn’t exactly hire you to write the definitive textbook on How to Have a Healthy, Lasting Relationship.”
I part my lips, speechless.
His jaw is clenched.
I squint at him for a long moment, trying to look like a badass—but then, goddammit, tears prick my eyes. “You’re right,” I finally say. “I pretty much suck at relationships.” I wipe my eyes. “I’m sorry for saying all that stuff. I shouldn’t have said it.”
He twists his mouth and exhales. “If you hadn’t said it, you’d still be thinking it.”
I don’t correct him. He’s right.
He shakes his head. “I must say, you have quite a knack for not kissing my ass, Kat.”
I smash my lips together.
“I’m not used to it,” he says.
“Sorry,” I say.
Josh shakes his head like he’s chastising me. “No apology required.”
I bite my lip.
He grazes his fingertips up the length of my arm and my skin electrifies under his touch.
“You get really sassy when you’re buzzed, you know that?” he says.
I nod. My crotch is suddenly burning.
“But you know what?”
I wait.
“I really like sassy.”
I bite my lip. My heart is racing at his simple touch.
“Did I hurt your feelings?” he asks softly. His fingers move up my arm and drift along my jawline. “When I said you’re a flop-dick when it comes to relationships?”
I smile. “Oh, is that what you said? Jeez, that’s a whole lot meaner than what I thought you said. All I thought you said was you wouldn’t hire me to write some textbook.”
He chuckles. His fingertips skim the length of my hairline.
“I’m not mad at you,” I say softly. “I’m the opposite of mad at you.”
He smiles wickedly. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Josh touches my chin and my body ignites. He leans in and kisses me gently.
We sit and stare at each other for a moment. A legion of butterflies has unleashed inside my stomach.
His eyes drift to my empty glass. “Would you like another one, Party Girl? The night is still young.”
“Yes, thank you. But not nearly as strong this time, Playboy. I wanna be fully conscious for whatever might happen next. Something tells me it’s gonna be good.”
He smirks. “Good idea.” He stands, grabs my glass, and heads toward the kitchen—but before he turns the corner, he turns back around. “Hey, Kat. Thanks for always playing the honesty-game with me. So few people do that with me—most people just kiss my ass.”