Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 133655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
“Time’s up, right, Jules?” he pushes, and his pleading yet undeniably magnetic smile is still in place. “I’m positive you texted me over an hour ago. I mean, I ran to Whole Foods, for fuck’s sake.”
I purse my lips, considering the implications of him getting off that easily. “The timer started when you arrived.”
“What?” he questions with a shocked laugh. “That is not how the rule works, Lia, and you know it.”
I glare at him. “Don’t you dare try to turn this around on me, you stone-cold plant killer. Our rule was invented to keep our fights in check, not to let you run roughshod over my feelings with a get-out-of-jail-free card anytime you like. The timer started with your arrival. Deal with it.”
“Can you at least let me come inside your room?” He holds up the pothos again. “You know, so I can fully plead my case from somewhere a little more comfortable than the doorway?”
I sigh dramatically but step aside to let him inside my room. Immediately, he sits down in the cushy pink chair by my window. I don’t miss the fact that he’s making a strong effort not to look in Luna’s wilted direction, his body turned almost awkwardly.
“I brought pizza,” he says, pulling a box out of the Whole Foods bag. “And I made sure it has your nasty combination of pineapple and jalapeños. I also thought I could convince you to fully forgive me with a little evening o’ rom-com.”
I squint at him. “Define that.”
“You yell at me about killing your plant—”
“Luna,” I correct him. “She had a name. She wasn’t some weed I plucked from an alley. She was my beautiful baby Luna.”
“My bad,” he says and holds up one hand in defeat. “You yell at me for killing our dear, sweet, beautiful Luna.” He looks to the ceiling and makes the sign of the cross over his chest. “May she rest in peace. Amen.” He meets my eyes again. “For however long you need. Then we eat pizza and watch Grease.”
I snort. “Of course. Grease. Why am I not surprised?”
It’s his favorite movie, though his love for love is born from both nurture and nature, so it’s hard to point any blame or shame directly at him. His father, Thatcher Kelly, has a long-standing love affair with all things romance. At one point, my dad was forced to be in some kind of romance book club that Ace’s dad was running. Not to mention, Ace’s mom Cassie writes romance novels in her free time, whenever she’s not busy doing her famous NYC photographer thing, and has force-fed beta reading sessions on both of us on more than one occasion.
Long story short, Ace has been inducted into a romance-loving cult from birth.
“Jules, shall I remind you that last rom-com movie night, we watched your favorite, You’ve Got Mail.”
He’s not wrong. When I die, I hope I get reincarnated as Kathleen Kelly, and we did watch it on our last movie night—two times in a row.
“It’s my turn. And Grease is a classic,” he adds, grinning. “It’s my favorite rom-com. Hardly something to complain about watching.”
“It’s barely a rom-com.”
“But it’s our rom-com.” He waggles his brows at me. “Remember Halloween? Fifth grade? You were Sandy. I was Danny Zuko. You had that curly blond wig and the candy cigarette.”
I groan. “That wig gave me hives.”
He winks. “But I looked incredible in that leather jacket. Don’t lie.”
“You looked like a kid trying to play dress-up in his dad’s clothes.”
“I looked cool, Jules,” he retorts and reaches out to briefly hold my hand. “By the way, bestie, I missed you while you were gone. It was weird not having you around.”
Oh, here we go… I should’ve known it would only be a matter of time before Ace started shelling out his charming voodoo to shove me more quickly toward compliance.
“Don’t be dramatic.” I roll my eyes. “I was only gone for two days.”
“Technically, it was three.” He grins up at me. “Trust me, I was counting down all 4,320 minutes until you were back.”
Sigh. I swear, he really makes it hard to be mad at him, even knowing he’s half full of shit.
“Well, I had to go with my parents to the cabin.” I shrug. “It was family-only and full of Evie’s bitching and bad Wi-Fi and not up for debate like your family trip to the Bahamas. I can’t believe your parents let you stay home.”
“Don’t be jealous, Lia. You know what my family is like. Opting out is like a survival tool.”
Once again, he’s not wrong. The Kellys are both the best and certifiable on any given day.
“Anyway, I’m glad you’re back.” His eyes dance with mischief. “We’re going to Groove tonight.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You want me to go clubbing with you after you committed first-degree plant murder?”