Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
“G-gorgeous?” She stammers, clearing her throat. “I…um…I’m okay. How are you?”
“I was good a minute ago. But I’m a whole lot better now.” I smile, extending my hand. “My name’s Grant. And you are?”
The stunning beauty opens her mouth to speak, but then stops like she’s just thought of something. “My name?” she asks.
“That’s right.” I nod.
She cocks her head to the side, adding an adorable look of puzzlement to her face. “You don’t recognize me?”
“Should I?” I ask, suddenly intrigued. “Shit, we didn’t hook up, did we? It wasn’t the Hawaii trip, was it? If it was, I apologize. I think Jeremiah put something in my drink and–”
“No,” she laughs. “I wasn’t in Hawaii. I don’t know Jeremiah.”
“Okay, good,” I sigh, relieved. “I would have felt awful if that was the case.”
“No, don’t worry about it.” The gorgeous girl smiles. There’s a moment where the two of us just look at each other. Her beauty is spellbinding. “We met a long time ago.”
“Yeah? Like a couple years ago?”
“A bit more than that…” she says, dragging her head slowly in a circle that ends in a slightly awkward smile and a bit of blush on her cheeks.
“More than a couple of years ago?” I’m thinking, but I don’t recognize her at all. She nods. “This is weird because I would recognize you if we had met before. Are you screwing with me?”
She shakes her head. “Not screwing with you.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
I frown and go deep into my memories, trying to figure out where in the world I could have met this beauty before, but I come up with absolutely nothing. Am I suffering from some kind of temporary amnesia? Or early onset dementia?
“You’re pranking me,” I finally say. “That’s the only thing that makes sense.”
For some reason, this makes the girl standing in front of me burst out giggling. She shakes her head. “No, I promise I’m not,” she says. “We’ve met before, and it was…pretty embarrassing for me.”
“Embarrassing for you?” I reply. “Okay, I’m really confused now.”
The girl takes a deep breath and lets it out. She closes her eyes, looking cuter than ever. There is something familiar about her now, but I still can’t quite put my finger on it.
“Allie,” she says. “My name is Allie.”
“Allie…” I say slowly.
“I was…twelve,” she says, sounding super embarrassed. “My friends dared me to come up to you while you were at work and ask you to go to the dance with me.”
Somewhere in the back of my mind, the memory rings like a bell way off in the distance. “You know, I think I remember that,” I say. “But just sort of.”
Allie smiles and breathes a sigh of relief. “Well, thank God for that,” she laughs. “Because it was so embarrassing!”
“Your friends must have had quite the sense of humor,” I say. “Getting you to ask me to the dance back then.”
“Yeah, well, I guess the joke is still going,” Allie sighs, slumping down on the bed. “You wanna guess who one of those friends was?”
I’m entranced by every word she says. But she can’t possibly mean what I think she means, can’t she?
“No way,” I say. But Allie just raises an eyebrow back at me. “You mean…?”
“Yup, I do.” She nods.
“McKenzie? McKenzie was the one who dared you?” I ask.
“Her and another girl who I don’t keep in touch with anymore,” she replies. “I wasn’t really that great of friends with McKenzie to be honest, either. This invite came as a bit of a surprise.”
“Wow,” I reply. “That’s quite a story.”
Allie nods. I honestly can’t remember that whole event when we first met too clearly in my mind, but it’s hard to believe that this deliciously sexy woman standing in front of me now is the same middle-school girl who asked me to her dance seven years ago. It’s like those photos people post online of their dogs as puppies and then when they’re full grown a year later and you barely recognize them.
Her face is absolutely beautiful. How is she not a model?
Her body is dangerous with all those curves. She’s absolutely crushing that skirt and top. I can’t wait to see what she looks like in her bridesmaid dress. But then again, I’d much rather see her out of it.
She keeps playing with the fabric of her skirt—twisting it between her thumb and forefinger. And it seems like her legs are quivering a bit as well.
“Are you nervous, Allie?” I ask.
“What? No,” she laughs, but she clearly is trying to hold herself together for whatever reason.
“Allie,” I say, taking a seat on the bed beside her. Her scent wafts into my nose, and I take a deep breath. “You know you smell delicious, but you look even more delicious.”
“What? I do?” she asks, her voice trembling ever so slightly.