Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 115763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
“Oh! Before I forget, last rule,” Dominic says, reminding us where our conversation began. “I get to tell Mom and Dad about this new development.” He swings a finger from me to Griffin, looking gleeful. I don’t know why he wants to do that. Mom and Dad will be happy for me, and they love Griffin. But the devilish light sparkling in my brother’s eyes makes me question his underlying motives.
“You’re already Mom’s Least Favorite, so go ahead and steal my thunder and tell her that I’ve finally found a great guy and have fallen in love. I’m sure she’ll love that,” I say sarcastically.
That brings him up short. But it’s Griffin’s response that draws my attention.
“A great guy? Fallen in love?” He looks shocked. “Me?”
“Duh. Yeah, you. We’ve got to work on your confidence here, Gruffy.” He frowns sharply, and I twist my lips, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, that’s not the one. I’ll keep workshopping it.”
I’m trying to find a good pet name for him since he doesn’t want me to call him Honey like the Hawks do, and Griffin seems a bit formal when we’re being lovey and playful. Side note, I’m teaching him to be playful, and he absolutely is ticklish despite his statements to the contrary. But so far, he’s vetoed Babe, Griffaroni, Stud Muffin, Boo Bear, and Cookie Monster, which has nothing to do with Thin Mints and everything to do with how much he likes to eat my . . . cookie. But back to his lack of confidence, I tell him fiercely, “You’re all ‘mine’ when it’s bang-a-rang time, but when things are just normie-normal, you’re all ‘who, me?’ like you don’t know how awesome—and hot—you are.”
“Ahhh! No!” Dominic screams, a bit too loud to be polite, but thankfully the restaurant is nearly empty tonight, and reminds us of rule one. “No sex talk.”
Oh yeah, he did say that. “Sorry,” I say, not actually sorry at all. “But also, you’re not telling Mom and Dad. I am.”
Dominic frowns, his bottom lip pouting out like a child, but he’s fighting off a grin. Was he testing me? I think he might’ve been. Testing to see how serious I am about his friend, because he already knows Griffin is serious enough that he risked their friendship over me. I sigh happily at their cute bromance, and the way they look out for one another. My brother isn’t only overly protective of me, he’s apparently overly protective of his friend, too, which is basically the sweetest thing ever. And let’s face it, now that we’re at this point, that’s going to make life better for all three of us.
“I’ll tell them,” Griffin offers. “That way, they can tell me firsthand that I’m not good enough for their daughter.”
Dominic and I meet eyes, my own worry matching his. “See what you did?” I accuse, bumping him with my shoulder so hard that he rocks to the side. Reaching across the table, I take Griffin’s hand. “We can tell them together, because they’re going to be so happy for us. They love you. Honestly, probably more than they love me. And if they have any doubts, it’ll be them checking if you’re sure you want to take on this.” I gesture to myself, knowing that, of the two of us, I’m definitely getting the better deal here. Dominic nods, agreeing with me wholeheartedly.
Self-esteem off the ice is definitely something Griffin needs to develop. The good thing is, I’m a skilled cheerleader, and now, knowing the issue, I can help. It might take some creative cheers, but I’m good like that. My latest from this morning included some real gems such as “bring that fine ass over here” and “if you’re happy and you know it, say yeehaw.” Okay, so those two kinda rolled into one when Griffin had carried me naked, piggyback style, while I fake rodeoed, to the kitchen, where I learned that although he hates coffee, he surprisingly has a coffee maker, sugar-free vanilla syrup, and milk. He blushingly told me that he got it all for me, and offered to get an actual espresso maker if I want to make official skinny vanilla lattes at his place.
I’d stared at him, gobsmacked, as though he was speaking another language. I’ve heard the expression “if he wanted to, he would” and laughed because I don’t think I’ve ever met a guy who wanted to. Until Griffin. In his mind, he’s still making up for all those years of bullying, but I’ve already forgiven him, and he’s just getting extra brownie points with me for his sweetness.
Griffin starts to smile, and I watch as his boyish, hopeful expression turns wolfish. “I definitely want to take on this—” He lets his eyes drip over me, and though he can’t see below the table, I feel very seen. “Anytime, anywhere, any way you want, Penelope.”