Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
But I had to hand it to those guys. At least they’d been up-front about who they were and what they wanted. Meanwhile, here I was, waiting for date eleven, because I was unable to tell my best friend no.
It was one word.
One syllable.
Two tiny letters.
I mean, I could say it. I had said it. Ten times and counting. But I hadn’t stuck to it, and that was the problem. I kept caving, partly because I knew Dunn loved me and he wanted what was best for me—though frankly, my mom had used that rationale for years to try to make me eat collard greens and it hadn’t worked. The other part of the equation was something more complicated, and I couldn’t puzzle it out no matter how much cake I consumed or how many nights I lay awake in my bed, pounding my pillow and thinking about it.
The door opened and a guy with thinning, sandy hair and a phone pressed to his ear walked in.
I sat up straighter, trying and failing to find something handsome about him, but in the end, he seemed to spot someone in the corner of the bar behind me, because he hurried off in that direction.
I sagged back down in my seat.
I couldn’t keep doing this to myself week after week, not only because I’d soon weigh more than Bernadette—who rang in at a cool 450, but don’t tell the other girls—but because it was taking a toll on the most precious thing in my life: my friendship with Dunn.
For those unaware, Dunn Johnson was pure goodness. Yes, even when I wanted to impale him with a plastic straw.
Oh, he could crack wise, and he could play pranks, but there wasn’t a mean bone in his body. He worked hard and he loved harder, and he was loyal as the day was long. He got my sense of humor. He made me feel safe and strong. And he was never competitive or jealous, which was more than I could say for other folks, including my little brother. I’d even heard Dunn tell Thom off once, when he’d complained that everything came easily to me.
Ha. Little did Thom know.
Trouble was, it was hard to be around Dunn and all his goodness without… well, loving him. And it was impossible to love him and not love him too much.
In ways he couldn’t return.
So I’d been trying to stay out of his path… at least as much as I could, considering he was a Doberman who could scent me out and happened to know all my hiding places.
I never went by to see Bernadette anymore, and even though Dunn had been begging for help remodeling his house, I hadn’t bitten. I hadn’t gone fishing but once the whole winter, and that was when Mal and Brooks and a whole bunch of other folks had been along. I only went to the Johnsons’ house when I knew he wouldn’t be there. And it turned out having Jenn as my temporary receptionist had actually been a stroke of genius, because Dunn hadn’t come by the office since the day I hired her.
I figured he didn’t wanna fuel any jealousy leftover from the Pickin’, but honestly, I wasn’t sure, since Jenn was a subject I’d flat out refused to discuss since that night at the Steak ’n Bait.
I looked at my phone again, ready to call time of death on Date 11, when the front door opened once more and a really adorable guy walked in. He ran a nervous hand over golden-brown hair and straightened his sweater. He smiled at the host and nodded at the bar, and I was almost positive he was looking for someone.
Okay, wow. Maybe Dunn hadn’t done too badly this time.
I surreptitiously ran a hand through my own hair and fixed my posture.
He approached the table, and I summoned a tremulous smile. Oh, he was cute, with little gold freckles and a Cupid’s bow mouth. Be cool, Tucker.
He smiled and extended a hand—Cool! Dry! And merciful heavens, the man had all his own teeth!—then said, “Hey! I’m Aiden. You must be Kevin?”
For half a second—okay, three-quarters of a second—I debated saying yes, but…
“Uh. No. Kevin’s the dark-haired guy by the window.” I held his hand a fraction of a second longer. “You don’t have a nut allergy, do you?”
“Pardon?”
I let go of his hand and smiled. “Nothing. Not a thing. You have a lovely evening.”
He lifted his chin and hurried off, and I closed my eyes and sighed.
When I opened them, it was to find Sandy-Haired-Phone-Man standing by my table.
“I think I found him,” he barked. “Finally. You Tucker Wright?”
“I… yes?”
The guy pursed his lips and looked me up and down, from my head to the fifth button of my shirt, just visible over the table. “Mm. She said you’d be taller.”