Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Fuck. Me. Is there anything sexier than listening to her excitedly go off about something? Nah, I don’t think she’s rambling. I just think she’s passionate.
“I’m sold.” The grin that grows on my face is bright and genuine. “Show me around, sweetheart.”
Correct choice of words I guess given the way I’m instantly rewarded with a hot, sloppy kiss that makes walking around the kids’ section a bit awkward for the first two minutes.
Jaye ardently points out the different sections, pulls various random books to browse, asks my opinion, and slowly turns me into a walking bookshelf as she stacks new “must-haves” for her personal collection as much as the school.
Eventually, we escape the jungle themed area to explore the next which is the hobby section. Its décor is tailored to that of a workshop, and to my surprise, I rather like it. We discuss different types of hobbies; however, instead of focusing on the ones we know the other likes, we search for ones that perhaps we don’t, leading to Jaye adding a book about Toy Voyaging for her and Upcycling for me.
Before I can be guided elsewhere, I swing back by the front to grab an actual basket and meet her in the romance section making sure to steer clear of the War & Military section on the way there. The whole territory is bright and bold. Decorated with zebra print and tiger stripes and random lip stick kisses – both stickers and painted on. Oversized chairs and beanbags are available for lounging, creating a come one, come all and stay vibe, yet it’s the way that my girlfriend is mindlessly stacking everything that catches her attention for longer than a minute that draws me in. Rushes me to her side. Assists in stacking the books carefully inside.
Guilt grows in her gaze after she glances at the growing amount of materials we’ve collected. “Maybe we should go to a section you like now? I think we’ve got me covered.”
“Sweetheart, if you wanna keep shopping for books for you, keep shopping for books for you. We’ve got all the time in the world.”
“We really do,” she swiftly coos. “They don’t close until midnight – unless of course they’re hosting a book slumber party. They even play the chime that Cinderella rushes away to in the movie to let you know they’re closed.”
“Did you say a book slumber party?”
Her head frantically bobs. “I’ve never been, but I so wanna go!”
“We’ll add that to the list then.”
Jaye squeaks in joy, plants another kiss on my lips that has me having to hide my hard on with the cart, and leads us away from the romance section after snatching up two more books. Browsing the classics section is followed by thumbing through a few in the fiction section; however, the minute she makes an attempt to pull me into the area I want to avoid, I suggest we check out mystery. Suspense. Distract her with questions about nonfiction novels and hone our attention there. Under her insistence, I add a couple of sports history reads by Jeff Pearlman and encourage us to check before she can redirect us to the area that I’m anxious to evade.
It isn’t until we’re back in the car that she actively decides to investigate what I thought I was being sly about. “Do you always avoid military related things?”
Keeping my stare on the process of fastening my seatbelt becomes my primary goal.
“I noticed you wouldn’t look at any books related to the subject. And I started thinking about it a little harder only to realize you always change the channel if something comes on or leave the room if the show focuses on it for too long. You don’t even display your dog tags despite the fact you now have a place to.”
“Why would I want another reminder of the horrific shit I’ve seen, done, survived, and am constantly haunted by?”
My eyes lift just in time to see her lips pull to one side on a tiny head bob of comprehension. “It wasn’t all bad, was it? I mean…why cover yourself in tattoos of something awful?”
The innocence in her tone defuses some of the tension in my system. “No, Jaye. It wasn’t all bad. I got a lot of shit out the military I didn’t even know I needed.” She begins to smile prompting me to stop it. “But for everything it gave, it took twice as fucking much.” Her expression falls once more, and a heavy sigh precedes me ending the subject. “Can we let this shit go?” Jaye’s mouth twitches to argue, forcing me to quietly beg, “Please.”
At that, she sweetly nods.
Starts the car.
Plants a hand supportively on my leg once we’re out of the parking lot.
Maybe I’m an asshole for how I handled that shit, but I don’t care. I don’t wanna talk about it. I don’t…need to talk about it. And if we talk about it then the chances of a fucking episode arriving increase rather than decrease, which is the wrong goddamn direction. Especially in a new relationship. She doesn’t need to be reminded that I’m damaged goods. That’s the last shit she needs.