Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Gus held a hand up for a high five. “Check you out. Well done, Rafey. Later.”
I froze for a beat, watching Gus make his way to the bathrooms, pausing as he always did to say hi to random friends and fans. My skin was too tight for my face, my palms were clammy, and though I knew it was my imagination, it felt as if the whole damn restaurant was staring at me.
Snap out of it, Rafe. Whatever this is…just snap out of it.
I avoided Gus like the plague over the next few days. Not that it was hard to do. He was busier than I was. The Bears had a game in Granville and if we won, Smithton would advance in our division.
Bears hockey fever hit the town hard. A national media presence had descended to get a front-row seat to the action, thanks to Walker Woodrow’s coverage on What’s New, Smithton? It was great press for the school and our sports programs, but the downside was that parking was an issue, and the restaurants and bars were overcrowded.
Just in time for my date with Eli.
I suggested a French bistro in Edgeview for our Friday evening rendezvous. Eli agreed and offered to pick me up.
I dreaded the night.
What can I say? I’d become a contrary little asshole.
But honestly, it was nice. French music, candlelight, spring flowers on linen tablecloths, warm bread with salted butter, fantastic wine, and delicious food. Don’t ask me what I ate. I chose the least expensive item on the menu in deference to my dwindling checking account, and it was dreamy.
Best of all, we never ran out of things to talk about. Yes, it was all figure-skating related, but I didn’t mind. Warmup routines, choreography, and the time I’d fallen on my ass mid camel spin. Eli snickered and shared a few self-deprecating stories too. We gabbed through dessert, seamlessly split the bill, and headed back to his car without missing a beat.
It was a nice date. Really nice.
And then he kissed me and it was just…awful.
Let me set the scene.
Insert dramatic throat-clearing.
An ancient Justin Bieber song on the speakers and a gentle spring breeze swaying the trees lining my street as Eli parked at the curb in front of my house.
“Can I walk you in?” he asked.
Sly devil. I wasn’t opposed to first-date sexy time, but Gus’s truck was in the driveway, and I was perfectly happy to end the night here. That probably wasn’t a great sign. However, I had zero desire to continue with any indoor gymnastics of the bedroom variety. None whatsoever. Another sign? Maybe.
I shook my head lightly. “I can handle it. Thank you, though. I had fun.”
“Me too.” Eli reached for my hand and yes, he linked our pinkies.
I squeezed his finger as I leaned across the console of his RAV4. Eli met me halfway and sealed his mouth over mine.
First impression, his lips were chapped.
Second impression, his tongue was too wet and too slippery. Sort of like kissing a fish. Not even a sexy fish. We’re talking a carp or a sea bass. I had a feeling this wasn’t Eli’s fault, though. It was mine.
I couldn’t explain why, but it was as if my body were rejecting him, silently screaming, You’ve got the wrong guy.
I somehow resisted the impulse to wipe my mouth as I pulled away. “Good night, Eli.”
I couldn’t get away fast enough.
All I wanted was to take my contacts out, put my glasses on, and change into my comfiest PJs. It had nothing to do with eel kisses and unsatisfying endings. I swear. Seriously.
And yes, I sort of wanted to hang out with Gus.
So what?
CHAPTER 10
GUS
The ice pack on my knee was slushy, my head hurt, and the annoying insurance commercial with tear-jerker Hallmark aspirations wasn’t helping. I sat up slowly, groaning as I reached for the remote. Damn, I was tired.
I needed to get off my ass, refreeze the ice pack, and take two more Advil. Stat.
My aching body and buzzing brain weren’t going to magically get better lying here like a bump on a log, pretending I wasn’t waiting for Rafe to get his ass home. Christ, he’d been gone for hours. I’d thought it was a simple dinner date. You’d eat, you’d chat, you’d say adios, and that was that.
Okay, yeah…I wasn’t a moron. There was a chance Rafe wouldn’t come home tonight at all. Or worse…he’d bring Eli here, and I’d be tortured with the soundtrack of sex noises echoing off the walls. That was assuming they were loud. Our bedrooms were on opposites ends of the hall, and we didn’t share a wall, and— Wow. Why do I care?
I should have been out with my friends, celebrating our win against Granville. I could have done the soda water and lime trick, and no one would have been the wiser. Again. None of them knew I was three weeks sober. No one knew. It wasn’t something I needed to share, but sitting in the dark and wishing I’d have made more of an impact in tonight’s game wasn’t helpful either. The win was all that mattered. I knew that.