Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 91501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
No, I most certainly don’t—but that’s what makes her different. I want to be the type to say nice shit and do nice things. Sure, it’s unfamiliar territory and might take a while until I get used to it, but it’s worth fucking trying.
“It didn’t feel weird saying it, so I guess that’s saying something.”
She nods. Giggles. “What now? Do I put my clothes on and leave? How does this usually work?”
“Usually work?” I’m lying down but still manage to cock my head, confused.
“Yeah, you know—after you sleep with someone, do you kick them out right away, or can I at least use the bathroom real quick?”
Jesus—she’s actually being serious right now.
And there’s that recognizable pit forming in my stomach, but this one isn’t from dread. It’s a ball of guilt.
“You don’t have to go anywhere if you don’t want to. In fact, if you want to spend the night, I can find you a spare toothbrush.”
Chandler blinks, doe-eyed and adorable.
Yeah—adorable.
“Okay.”
I nod. “Okay then.”
Now there’s nothing to do but find that toothbrush, let the dog out to piss, fuck her a few more times, and get a good night’s rest.
Having a girlfriend may be the best play I’ve made all year. I just have to see if she’s down for that.
Huh.
Color me surprised.
Eighteen
Chandler
“Whoa, whoa, whoa—back up.”
“To which part?”
I’m in my cubicle at the office, peeking around the corner to make sure no one is nearby, before whispering back into the phone’s receiver at my cousin, who called for a post-date update.
“The part where we carved pumpkins or the part where we had sex?”
“No one gives a shit about the pumpkins, Chandler!” she hisses through the line like a complete savage. “Get to the good part—I have a meeting in fifteen minutes.”
“You’ve been a real monster since you got married,” I tell her with a laugh, twirling in my desk chair toward the laptop in front of me. “Are you not getting laid enough?”
“The opposite, actually.” She yawns. “I’m sleep-deprived from constantly getting poked in the ass crack by my husband’s hard dick.” Hollis pauses. “Sorry, was that too much information?”
My cousin yawns again, not at all helping the situation.
“I’m sorry,” she tells me for the second time. “What were you saying? You banged all night or no?”
I only hesitate a moment. There’s no point in lying; she’ll most likely find out the truth anyway if Tripp is the kind of man who tells his brother his personal business.
“Yes?” Pause.
“Not to be weird or anything, but how was it? Tripp doesn’t strike me as the sensitive type—he seems like more of a love ’em and leave ’em cold on the other side of the bed type.”
“Do you want me to tell you if he’s a cuddler first or how the sex was, because those are two entirely different things.”
“Could you not be so literal? We’re on a time crunch here.”
I can almost see her checking the gold watch circling her wrist; I know it’s there, because the expensive designer timepiece was a high school graduation gift from her parents, and I was at the party where she received it.
“Okay, yes—the sex was amazing. And yes, he’s a giver. I mean, he went down on me twice and I barely touched his dick at all.” Jeez, I can’t believe I just told her that. Now I feel like a selfish asshole.
“Oh nice! Love that! We call that a pillow princess, you know. Some guys would rather get you off than have you pleasure them or whatever.”
“How the hell do you know that?”
“Eh, some guy on a dating app wrote it in his bio and I had to do an internet search to figure out what it was.”
“I don’t think Tripp is looking for a pillow princess, I just think he was trying to get me off.”
Hollis sighs. “Yeah, you’re probably right—they all want their dicks sucked eventually.”
I gape, craning my neck to peer over my cubicle partition.
The coast is clear, so I hiss, “Are you alone right now? Jeez. Anyone could hear you.” Despite what little I know about her job in publishing, she’s still a grunt and I know she doesn’t have a cushy office either.
When did she get like this? The Hollis I know and grew up with was independent, but always poised and somewhat well-behaved. Certainly wouldn’t have used the word dick in a sentence—not during the work day!
How stuffy and prudish does that make me sound? I almost facepalm myself, spinning once in my chair.
“You sound different,” my cousin allows.
I feel different. “How can you tell?”
“I can hear it in your voice.” She pauses on the other end of the line. “You must really like him, huh? Tripp. Of all people, oy.”
That makes me laugh and she ain’t joking. “Yeah, of all the people, I have to go and start liking the one guy most unlikely to fall in love with me.”