Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76172 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76172 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“That would be great,” I tell him. “I think I want it on that wall over there.”
He nods before pulling some type of multi-tool from his pocket and flipping out a knife to slice at the tape holding the box closed.
“Handy,” I say as I watch him work.
He winks at me, making me realize just how handsome he is. I know I should probably date this guy. He’s quick to smile. There’s less baggage where he’s concerned. He doesn’t seem like he feels the need to fight his attraction to me like it’s some sort of sin the way Emmett does. But even as handsome as he is, I don’t feel an ounce of the chemistry that I feel with Emmett.
I must stare too long because Oracle stops what he’s doing and looks back in my direction.
“What is it?”
“You don’t seem like the type of guy who dates,” I blurt, my eyes going wide because honestly, I didn’t mean to say my thoughts out loud.
A frown tugs down the corners of his mouth. “I don’t date.”
I guess it’s commendable that he doesn’t lie and add that he’d change that for me, knowing he honestly wouldn’t.
After all, he did predict that he could see my clothes on his bedroom floor. He didn’t ask me out to dinner or tell me he could see any kind of future with me.
“If I gave you that impression—”
I hold up my hand to halt his words. “You didn’t. I think—”
“I have to take this,” he says without even looking when his phone rings in his pocket.
He looks as relieved as I feel when he rushes out of the room.
I blow out a breath, trying to shove down the awkwardness I’m feeling.
I don’t know that I’ve ever seen someone run away, scared of me. I chuckle, recalling the terrified look in his eyes as he bolted from the room.
Chapter 20
Legacy
Something unfamiliar seeps into my veins when I see Oracle emerge from the mouth of the hallway. I don’t even know the guy. I haven’t shared a word of conversation with him other than the look he gave me yesterday evening, but I’m still fighting the urge to punch him in the nose for just existing and stepping into Devyn’s orbit as he walks closer.
He pulls his phone from his ear. “Devyn is putting her room together. She probably needs help assembling some of the furniture.”
He walks away before I can speak, making me wonder what call would be so important that he’d leave that woman alone.
I’m feeling a little disappointed that I wasn’t there when she found out about the room being provided for her business. I tried my best as I carried in a slew of boxes earlier, to organize them by attempting to guess what was in them according to their labels, but I’m sure she has a different method than the one I used.
I walk, despite wanting to run, in that direction. My desperation to see her is what carried me outside for a long jog up the street and back. I’m full of all of this unspent energy, and the urges I feel when it comes to her need to settle some before I do something we both might regret.
“What’s so funny?” I ask, hearing her laughter from the doorway.
She jerks her head in my direction, and God help me for the way her eyes home in on the dampness on my shirt.
“He freaked out when I asked if he was the type of guy who dated.”
Her response grabs every ounce of my attention.
“Is that what we’re doing? Dating other people?”
She slowly shakes her head.
“I blurted a thought, and it freaked him out.”
“You were thinking about dating him?”
“Would you stop overanalyzing every word?”
I step closer into the room. “What else would you have me do?”
I have a list a mile long if she’s looking for suggestions.
She points her finger across the room to where I gathered all the things that need to be assembled.
“Is that all you want from me?” I tease. “Furniture assembly?”
She shakes her head, a slow back-and-forth movement as her eyes once again wander down my body.
I turn my back to her, because there would be too much to explain if I keep facing her.
The laughter from her side of the room tells me she isn’t as inexperienced as I originally thought since it seems she can read me like a book.
“How long do you plan on working?” I ask as I rip open the first box.
“Until it’s done.”
I look around the room. Em told me this isn’t even half of what she has coming in, and I’ve already worked out a plan with Kincaid for when her new machine arrives.
“I’ll help where I can,” I tell her.
I do my best to keep my attention on my task at hand as I spread out the pieces according to the instructions, but I lose focus every time even the slightest noise comes from her. She’s meticulous as she organizes her supplies. She reads every piece of paper that comes in the box, forming a pile and muttering something about needing a filing cabinet for shit like this.