Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
I give myself a second to calm down. The events of last night come forward. It wasn’t a dream. I had a great time. We opened up to each other about almost everything. We didn’t even finish the movie with the bad actors. He gave me a neck rub, and that’s the last thing I remember, because I guess my real dreams took me away.
“Wouldn’t be the worst thing,” he adds.
I glance at him. “What?”
“Us having sex.” He shrugs. “Except for the fact that I totally repulse you.”
I realize my phone fell out of my pocket at some point and landed on the floor. “Totally. Right. Repulsed beyond measure.” I slide off the bed, pick it up, and frown when I realize it’s dead. Hope Vann hasn’t been trying to text me. “Got a charger?”
“Yeah, on the nightstand.”
I plug my phone in, then stare at it a moment. “Quin,” I murmur thoughtfully. “No one calls me Quin.”
He shrugs. “Cool. Can it be our thing?”
“I don’t know. Is Adri a thing? Or Ade? Hmm … Your name doesn’t shorten well.”
“Call me whatever you want. Except for one thing.”
My phone dings as it comes to life with whatever meager percentage of power it now has. I see the missed calls and texts from Vann, including a fresh one from my dad, who I guess isn’t happy I ignored his text last night. I guess I’m gonna have to confront that at some point.
But not now. “Except for what?” I ask when I notice Adrian has stopped talking.
He snorts, as if at some dark joke. Then he rises off of the bed. “You mentioned in your sleepy state last night that your friend was planning to take you for late-night tacos at Desert Moon. What he failed to mention is how bomb their breakfast tacos are. How about we go for something tasty this morning? It’s on me.”
He never said what I shouldn’t call him. Guess I’ll dog-ear that page for later. “Actually … I should probably get back to my friend. I feel a bit rude for having taken off last night and abandoning him.”
“Oh. You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“But your phone’s dead.”
“It’s got a tiny bit of juice now, maybe enough to get me back to my friend’s place.”
He glances away. “Yeah, of course. Your friends.”
“Sorry. Breakfast tacos next time, maybe?”
He takes a second, then faces me again with a quirked eyebrow. “Next time? You’re planning on hanging with me some more this weekend?”
Oh. Was that presumptuous? I look at him. “I mean, only if you want to. Not twisting your arm.”
“You couldn’t twist these suckers,” he says, giving a little flex.
That might’ve made me roll my eyes if I didn’t just spend a night with him. Instead, I crack a smile.
He smiles back. “Of course I want to hang out more.”
Relief settles in. “Awesome.” I rise from the bed, pull my phone back off the charger, then fetch my sandals off of the floor. How did they get all the way over here? “Thanks for the, uh, fun night. I had a great time and didn’t even take off my pants.”
“It’s a talent.”
After slipping my sandals on, I glance around the room before meeting Adrian’s eyes, finding them as uncertain as my own. “I guess I’ll … see you later.” I make my way for the door.
“You don’t want a ride?”
I stop and turn. “I don’t think my friends live too far away. Besides, I’d like to get to know the area, enjoy the morning air.” Or is it noon yet? “Thanks for the, uh …” You already thanked him. Stop stalling. “I’ll see you later.” I take another step, passing by him.
“You sure you don’t want a quick bite?”
His question stops me right in front of him. I glance at his chest. Even after the night we shared, Adrian emits a clean, inviting scent that literally pulls me toward him like a helpless shard of metal to a magnet. One more step and I just might glue to his body, welcoming his tight, crushing embrace. Did he embrace me last night in those big arms of his? Were we spooning at all?
I hate that I don’t clearly remember.
“My friends are waiting. I …” My smile tightens. “But thanks anyway.”
“Wait.”
I look at him. He turns, grabs his phone off of a nearby dresser, taps it, then hands it to me. “Give me your digits so I can text you later.”
“Oh, right, of course.” After a flustered second, I add my number, then hand him the phone.
His fingers graze mine when he takes it back.
For a moment, neither of us let go.
Our eyes connect. Something stirs in me.
“Thanks,” he says.
“See ya,” I say back.
Then we let go.
The door shuts softly behind me on my way out.
Whatever feeling is inside me right now, I don’t know how to name it. Excitement? Confusion?