Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“I should take this off. I wasn’t sure what to wear and—” He reached for said tie but stopped speaking when my hands covered his. I felt a tremble shudder through him.
“No. Don’t. It’s cute.” Then I quickly let him go, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.
“Okay?” His voice squeaked, and he cleared his throat. “Okay,” he said again, his voice more even and not broken. “I’m sorry.” Jameson closed his eyes, shook his head, and bit his plump bottom lip. I realized then that I wondered what it tasted like. “This is going to suck. I don’t know why I’m…like this.” His eyes opened again. “I’m not always this way. It’s just around cute guys. I turn into this…I don’t know. Me. This was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have done it.”
Jameson stepped back, away from the door, and my pulse shot up, this unfamiliar panic there. What I would have to freak out about, I didn’t know. Whatever it was, the idea of him canceling the date made my insides twist up. “Hey.” I reached out, wrapped a hand gently around his wrist. “Is this okay?” I asked, and he nodded. “I don’t know you very well, but what I do know, I like, so I’m glad you turn into…well, you. And that made more sense in my head than when I said it out loud.”
Now I was the one stumbling for my words.
“Let me try again. This isn’t a mistake. You have nothing to apologize for, and I so want to go on this date. If you cancel on me, I’m going to be the creepy stalker, minus the creepy part, and that’s a joke, so don’t think I’m a weirdo, okay?” I teased. “What I’m trying to say is, you might make me cry if you don’t go out with me. I’m not sure how I’ll ever recover. Do you want to live with that for the rest of your life? If not, then you should go out with me. You owe it to the world, or at least Atlanta, because how would everyone else survive if you stole Will Carson’s joy?”
He laughed, his neck bent and his head tilted down in this bashful sort of way.
“You’re good at this,” he said.
“So I’ve been told.”
“Cocky too.”
“You aren’t the first to say it.” I smiled. “Come on, I want to go on a date with you, Jameson. It’s just dinner. What can go wrong?”
He hesitated, and for a second I thought he was going to say no, but he sighed, grabbed his cell and keys from the table by the door, and walked out with me.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jameson
What could go wrong? What could go wrong? I could think of a lot that could and probably would…like, when I was little I used to have a nervous stomach, and everything made me throw up. It hadn’t happened since I was twelve, but what if it suddenly came back and I started puking all over our dinner? Or, you know, my luck could be even worse and a meteorite could drop out of the sky and onto the restaurant, or…we could run into my parents. Oh God, now my stomach was upset.
But Will was also so hot and sweet and charming that there wasn’t a chance in hell I could let myself back out of this. So maybe I was a little shallow, but when would I ever get the chance to date someone like him? There was this one guy once, but he was using me to try and get close to my dad.
I might not know Will well, or really at all, but something told me he wasn’t the type to do that. He was the perfect person to have this summer fling with that I would never have the guts to ask him about.
My bow tie felt slightly too tight as we drove to the restaurant. I didn’t know how it seemed to constrict me more and more with each passing mile.
Will made random conversation, nothing personal or real. We talked about the weather and an upcoming concert in Piedmont Park, and he asked if I walked to the beltline often as it was close to my place.
I wondered if somehow he had magic abilities because it felt like I blinked and we were suddenly at the restaurant, even with the crazy Atlanta traffic.
I went to open the door, and he said, “Don’t do that.”
“Am I supposed to stay here?”
He shook his head. “No, I’m going to be a gentleman. This is new for me, so let me know if I do something wrong. Also, if you ever see Shaw again, don’t tell him.” His words rolled off his tongue, light and playful.
I did as he said and waited while Will walked around his Honda and opened the door. My stomach felt like a fizzy soda can. My cheeks heated as Will held out his hand for me.