Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 110624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
I’ve heard that moan before. I shook my head to get the disturbing thought of Jake with another woman out of my mind.
His mouth was full. “Ugh. Mmmmmm. Oh my God. You know this is like my wet dream, right?”
There’s an analogy: What Bananas Foster is to Jake…Jake is to Nina.
“I figured you’d like it.”
“Like it…Nina…I fucking love it,” he said before taking another huge bite. He ate in silence for a few minutes with his eyes closed half of the time. “Where did you learn to make this?”
“I actually took a dessert-making class back home once. It’s actually not that hard to make. It’s just butter, sugar, rum, vanilla, cinnamon, ice cream and of course, bananas.”
He continued to devour the entire batch until the plate was bone dry. I sat across from the table with my chin in my hands just watching it happen like a spectator sport.
He ran his finger repeatedly across the plate licking the last remnants, which caused my insides to tingle.
I suddenly wished I were wearing the plate.
When there was nothing left, he closed his eyes one last time, slowly opened them wide, shook his head and said, “Mmm…mmm…mmm. Promise me you’ll make that again for me.”
I laughed at how serious he was actually being. “That can be arranged.”
“I don’t think you understand. That was the best thing I have ever tasted in my entire life. No one has ever made anything for me like that. My mother couldn’t cook for shit growing up. She worked hard and all, especially after my father died but never cooked, never baked. That’s why I started eating so many damn bananas in the first place.”
That was the first moment Jake ever shared anything important about himself with me.
“How old were you when your father died?”
He seemed caught off guard by the question but answered looking down at the plate. “I was five, almost six.”
My heart broke for him. “I’m sorry, Jake.”
“Yeah, me too.” He coughed and quickly changed the subject. “Anyway, you’re making this again, okay?
“Well, I did make it as a thank you, but I have to admit…there may have been an ulterior motive.”
He wiped his mouth with a napkin, crumpled it and threw it at me jokingly. “Oh?”
“Yes. I was actually hoping that maybe you would go easy on me if it turns out I didn’t get an A…maybe let me have some say in how far I’m willing to go with this punishment thing.”
He threw his head back in laughter, and I could see his tongue ring. He scratched his chin, pretending to think about it and then said, “Um…no.”
“Jake…” I whined.
He mocked me in the same tone. “Nina…”
“I am so screwed.”
“Oh, Ye of little faith. Did you even get your grade yet?”
“I am pretty sure they’re up. I just have to go online and check if they’re posted on Hernandez’s website.”
He walked down the hall and returned with his laptop, placing it on the counter. “Check it.”
I nervously keyed in the web address as he leaned in over me. I could smell the bananas and rum on his breath and could feel him breathing on my shoulder, which made me fidgety as I typed in the password.
The first thing I noticed was Alistair’s grade: Alistair York: 100.
Scrolling down, I looked for mine, and there it was: Nina Kennedy: 78.
My chest constricted with mixed emotions. I had gotten a C+, which was better than I could have ever hoped for but far from what I needed to avoid having to pass Jake’s test.
Jake and I turned to each other at the same time, and the gleam in his eyes told me I was in for it.
CHAPTER 7
Thursday afternoon, I was cleaning the kitchen when I received a text from Jake.
I am getting off of work early and should be home around 3:30. I’ll meet you at the house. Then we’ll leave together. Be ready.
A few minutes later, he texted again.
Stop freaking out, Nina.
And so, the ruminations began. I had no idea what he had in store for me, and he specifically gave me no hints, so that I wouldn’t “freak out.” Well, the not knowing made me freak out even more.
I took a shower to pass the time and could not for the life of me decide what to wear. What does one wear to a date with disaster? Regardless of where we ended up tonight, I was going to be one sweaty, panicky, white-knuckled mess.
I finally settled on a pair of jeans and a fitted black t-shirt. I might as well be comfortable and honestly, why would I need to dress up? It’s not like Jake is going to notice how cute my ass is when I am keeled over on the ground hyperventilating.
At 3:15, I decided to sit and wait in the living area, attempting to distract myself by watching the Katie show. The topic was about close encounters with death. I shut it off because it was a trigger for my anxiety.