Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“My car won’t start,” she says. “It’s making a cranking noise.”
“I can take you,” Noah says.
“You have that meeting,” Elena mutters. “I’ve got an early appointment at the salon, but I can try to see if one of the others can cover for me.”
“You hate canceling on clients,” Layla says, sighing. “Plus, it’s on the other side of the city. You’d lose a couple of hours.”
I almost laugh. A crazy part of me wonders if they’re all working together to ensure Layla and I spend as much time together as possible.
“I’ll give you a ride,” I say. “I was going to run into the city, anyway.”
Layla looks at me sharply. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“I have nothing else to do until my office is up and running. It’s no trouble.”
“Are you sure?”
I smirk. “You already asked that.”
“That’s nice of you, bro,” Noah says. “As long as it’s not too much trouble.”
I stand. “None at all.”
Layla and I walk outside together. She stands close to me, but we’re not quite touching. She doesn’t get in right away when I open the passenger-side door.
“Miles, about last night…”
“Yeah?”
She purses her lips, looking so gorgeously sassy I almost kiss her. Then I remember that all Noah and Elena have to do is glance out the window.
“Well, isn’t it obvious?” she says passionately. “If we’re going to spend time together, we can’t… you know… do anything.”
“We both know we shouldn’t,” I say.
“Does that mean you’ll behave yourself?”
I smirk. “If you can, I’ll try.”
She climbs into the car, grabbing the door handle. “This isn’t a joke, Miles.”
Maybe this is her defense against our desire. If so, it’s a bad one.
“I kind of like it when you’re pissed at me. Is that strange?”
She laughs, then abruptly stops as if purposefully cutting it short. “Yep, you must be a real freak.”
I laugh, not stopping mine. Right now, I’m doing what I promised myself I wouldn’t. I’m flirting with her, getting closer to passion.
“Only when it comes to you.”
“Come on, Miles.” She shoots me a look. “We can’t…”
“Okay, I’ll try.”
I leave the suburbs, driving toward the city.
“I’ll give you directions when we get closer,” she says, the first words we have spoken in minutes.
“Why are you going in so early, anyway?” I ask.
“I’ve got the lunch shift and need to do some prep. Plus, I’m allowed to use the kitchen for a while before work on lunch-shift days. Graham isn’t in until the evening, so he can’t give me any crap about it.”
“He shouldn’t be giving you crap anyway,” I growl.
“It’s fine. I can take it.”
“But you shouldn’t have to take it. He’s got no right to ride you just because you want to do the same job as him one day. If anything, he should help and encourage you. Countless restaurants would love to have somebody as enthusiastic—not to mention talented—as you.”
“Thanks for saying that,” she mutters, “but I’m not sure you’re right. I can’t risk storming out and looking for somewhere else, especially since I’m gaining so much experience here.”
“How bad is he?” I ask.
She sighs, staring out the window.
“What’s wrong?”
“Just… this.” She fiddles with a loose thread on her pants, then lets her hand drop. “We can’t speak about this stuff.”
“Your work? Why not?”
“About anything personal. Anything that involves you supporting me. Anything that makes it way too freaking tempting to get involved with each other. If we’re going to survive this, we have to keep it surface level.”
“I don’t think I can do that,” I say gruffly. “There’s no surface with us. There’s only—”
“We’re all surface,” she interrupts. “How can you say that? This is, what, the second proper conversation we’ve ever had? The third?”
I clench my jaw as I stop at a red light, allowing me to study her. There’s so much pain in her posture, her hands clasped in her lap.
“That doesn’t mean we can’t get to know each other better. It also doesn’t mean I can’t want to help you.”
“What are you going to do? Beat up Graham?”
I laugh savagely. “I won’t lie. I’d like to.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s making your life more difficult than it has to be. That’s more than enough reason in my book.”
“You can’t beat up every guy who acts like a jerk toward me.”
“I can try.”
She finally turns from the window, looking at me with a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re impossible. Do you know that? I’m trying to be good here.”
“So am I, but it’s so damn hard. All I can think about is kissing you again.”
“That would be a bad idea.”
“Maybe so, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting it.”
The light turns green, and I drive on, resisting the urge to reach over and place my hand on her leg. Not just for the lust—which is never-ending, my desire swelling every moment—but also for the sense of support.