Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80314 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80314 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“I noticed you have a lot of books at your house.” He picks up the one I just set down and flips it over to look at the cover, which just has a woman in a sheer dress floating through the water. “Do you read a lot?”
“I do.” I grab the stack of menus we’ve collected since we’ve been here and hand them over to him while taking my book back. “Do you like to read?”
“I haven’t read since I was in school, and that was many years ago.”
“That’s very sad.”
“I haven’t had a lot of time to read.” He places the menus on the counter facedown, then fans them out. “Choose one.” Reaching over, I pick one from the bunch, and he flips it over. “Pizza.” His eyes meet mine. “I’m guessing from that face it’s not what you wanted.”
“I wasn’t making a face,” I lie, because I probably was. Pizza is good, but that’s been our go-to the last couple of days, and you can only eat so much pizza before you’re sick of it.
“Choose again.” He leaves out the pizza flyer from the pile, and I pick another, then smile when he flips it over and I see it’s for the Jamaican restaurant that I wanted to try but hadn’t had time to. “Much better,” he says, studying me before he looks over the menu. “Do you know what you want from here?”
“Stew chicken, rice and peas, with mixed vegetables. Oh, and a beef patty if they have it.”
“Have you had Jamaican food before?”
“Often. One of my best friends, Toya, is from Jamaica, and she’s an amazing cook. Have you?”
“Only when I’ve been on vacation in Jamaica.” He pulls his cell phone out of his back pocket and dials the number on the menu.
As he places the order for our food, I study him in the light of the kitchen, noticing a small scar above his upper lip and another larger one just over his brow that disappears into his hairline, both making him look a little more interesting. His photos that were used on the app didn’t do him justice. Or maybe it’s just this version of him that I like a little more than the guy I was talking to. It probably helps that he’s real, so real I can reach out and touch him.
“They said it should be ready to pick up in about fifteen minutes. Are you up to riding with me to go get it?”
“Sure.” I shrug, then glance down at what I have on. The tank with a built-in shelf bra and pajama shorts are something I’d normally wear to bed, but with the sweater over it, it doesn’t look too indecent. It’s just standing next to him fully dressed to go out that makes me wonder if I shouldn’t change into actual clothes.
“If you’re worried about what you have on, don’t be. You look—” His eyes roam over me. “—fine.”
“Thanks.” I laugh at the lame compliment and turn with the intention of telling him that I’m going to go change, but my breath catches as his hand wraps around my bicep and he’s suddenly in my space. So in my space that his chest bumps mine as I take a breath.
“If I told you what I really think about how you look, I have a feeling you’d run from me. And I don’t want to risk that happening,” his voice rumbles, and my thighs squeeze together to fight the tingle between them. “Okay?”
“Okay.” I lick my bottom lip, and his eyes drop to my mouth.
“You should step back,” he tells me, the warning clear in his tone, but I’m caught in the heat that has flared to life between us, and I’m not sure that I want to listen. Part of me wants to push him to see what will happen if I don’t heed his warning. When his eyes darken, and I’m sure he’s going to make a move, my cell phone rings with the custom song that is attached to my sister April’s number. And just like that, the spell is broken, and he steps out of my space, clearing his throat.
With my hands balled into fists at my sides, half relieved and half disappointed that the moment between us was interrupted, I spin on my heels. “I’ll be right back,” I call over my shoulder as I take off toward the room I’ve been staying in since I got here.
Finding my cell on the bed, I pick it up and see the missed call from April along with a slew of texts from my other sisters in the group chat we share. Reading through the messages first, I shake my head. One thing that isn’t great about having a big family is the amount of gossip that goes around. No one can keep their mouths closed about anything for very long.