Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
“Alone?”
“My aunt is… My aunt is working today, and my mom doesn’t live here.” No way am I telling a stranger that I’m basically living alone.
“Then I’m taking you out.”
“What?” I laugh.
“I’m not going to let you celebrate your accomplishment alone.” He stands. “It’s four. How long will it take you to get ready to go out to dinner?”
“Um.” I glance around, wondering if I’m being punked. “I don’t know.”
“Is an hour good for someplace casual with good food?”
“Are you being serious?”
“Yes.” He smiles, and I shake my head.
“I don’t even know your name.”
“Brodie.” I don’t think I’ve ever met a Brodie before, but the name suits him.
Biting my lip, I debate taking him up on his offer. Normally, I would say no, but I just shared a huge moment with him and can actually hear a little voice in the back of my head telling me I should go. And honestly, I can’t think of a reason not to. It’s dinner out. He didn’t ask me to go back to his place for a drink. Maybe, like me, he doesn’t know anyone here and is looking for people to connect with.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” He raises a brow.
“Yes, dinner sounds good.”
“All right.” I watch him begin to gather his towel and phone from the table on the opposite side of his lounger while I pack my things into my bag and shrug on the simple cotton dress I wore over my swimsuit down to the pool. Surprising me, he waits until I’m done, and then the two of us walk side by side to the door that leads into the building. When we get to the elevator, I press the button for my floor, and he presses his, which I notice is for one of the penthouses at the top. When the doors close, the smell of his cologne or whatever soap he uses fills the small, enclosed space. It’s difficult not to feel awkward being alone with him, especially when he only has on a pair of shorts that hang low on his hips.
When I finally reach my floor, I mentally sigh in relief and hurry to get off the elevator like it’s on fire.
“Reese,” he calls, and I spin around to find him leaning slightly out of the elevator with a look on his face that says he’s trying not to laugh at something. “Since I don’t have your phone number, I’ll meet you in the lobby downstairs in an hour.”
“Oh, yeah, okay. Sounds good.” I hear him chuckle as he disappears back into the elevator. Ignoring the nervous butterflies flying around in my stomach, I rush down the hall to my aunt’s apartment and use the key card to let myself inside.
Chapter 4
Brodie
Standing in the lobby of the building, I watch the elevator for Reese while ignoring the group of women gathered on one of the couches near the entrance. All five are dressed similarly in barely-there dresses and short shorts, whispering among each other while doing a horrible job of not making it obvious they’re talking about me.
It’s weird to think that I used to feed off that kind of thing—feed off women throwing themselves at me and the constant attention. Then, I lost the only woman besides my mom that I’d ever loved because I craved the ego boost the other women gave me. I didn’t take my ex seriously when she told me that the flirting bothered her, even if it was innocent. I thought she was being dramatic. Looking back, I realize I expected her to put up with it because of who I am. It was stupid. I was stupid and immature.
“Hey.” I turn my head and look down at the blonde who broke away from her friends to approach me. “Are you Brodie Larsen?”
“No, sorry,” I deny, and she frowns, glancing back at her friends before looking at me once more.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, sorry.” I give her a smile so I don’t come off like a dick, then turn to the elevator when I hear the ding of the doors opening. With my hands tucked into the pockets of my shorts, I watch a group of people step off and then see Reese following behind them. I don’t know why I thought she would look completely different. Maybe because I’m used to women going all out with hair and makeup. But she’s as cute as she was by the pool, maybe even cuter with her glasses and her hair down, dressed casually in a pair of jean shorts with a tank top and sandals. Looking around, she fidgets awkwardly, and I can’t help but smile.
“Reese,” I call, and she turns my way. Her shoulders seem to sag in relief as soon as our gazes lock. Yeah, she’s cute.
“Hey.” She walks toward me with a small smile. “Sorry I’m late; the elevator took forever.”