Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“I wouldn’t have waited six fucking months to ask her out after I stuck my tongue in her mouth.” He gawks at me while drinking.
“This was enlightening,” I tell him, grabbing a couple of pieces of string beans. “I’m going to call Dad and see what he says.”
“Let me know what he says about this.” He shakes his head. “Six months.” He hangs up on me, and I call Dad right away.
“Hey there,” he answers after one ring. “What’s up, kid?”
“Dad, you know I’m in my thirties, right?” I point out to him.
“Are you or are you not my kid?” he counters, and I’m not going to get into this discussion with him.
“Okay, well, I need advice, old great one,” I say. “There is this girl I’m interested in.”
“Go on.” He smiles.
“What can I do to get her to go out with me?” I hold up my hand before he talks. “And before you say ask her, I already did.”
“Well, when I wanted your mother to go out with me, I showed up at her work unannounced,” he shares.
“And that was not a good idea,” my mother chimes in from the background.
“Really?” My father looks over at her. “Did you not end up going out with me that night for pizza?”
“Technically, you drove me home and stayed,” she states as my father shakes his head.
“She wanted me to stay.”
“I almost stabbed you with a fork,” she reminds him, and I can’t help but bite my lip not to laugh at him as he glares at her.
“Okay, well, this is fun,” I say in annoyance. “Thanks for all the advice.”
“See what you did?” my father blames my mother, who snatches the phone from his hand.
“Honey.” She looks at me. “Why don’t you just tell her why you want to take her out.”
“Just like that?” I stare at her.
“Just like that,” she repeats, and I nod.
“Okay, I’ll try that,” I tell her. “Thanks, Mom. Love you guys.” I hang up and pull up the Instagram message with her.
Stone: Hey, I’ll be in your town in a couple of days, and I’d like to take you out. I can’t stop thinking about you, and there is nothing I want more than to see you again. What do you say, gorgeous, go out with me?
CHAPTER SIX
ryleigh
I look up from the brief I’m reading when my phone pings with a message. When I grab the phone and see that it’s Stone, I want to be annoyed, but my eyes read the message on my screen.
Stone Richards: Hey, I’ll be in your town in a couple of days, and I’d like to take you out. I can’t stop thinking about you, and there is nothing I want more than to see you again. What do you say, gorgeous, go out with me?
I shake my head and tap the back of my pen nervously on the brief I was reading in front of me. “That charming motherfucker,” I mumble before I toss my phone to the side, not opening the message because then he’ll see I’ve seen it.
I thought it was going to be another day in the office. But when Claudia, the receptionist, called to tell me I had a delivery, I was shocked. I never ever get deliveries unless it’s food, but I didn’t order anything. Instead, I was given a white box with a brown bow on it, and a white envelope tucked under with my name written in the middle of it. I literally had no idea what it was, and when I finally got back to my office and sat down, the first thing I did was untie the brown satin bow, pulling off the top of the white box. A brown paper was hiding what was underneath it, and when I saw it, I stopped moving—three rows of chocolate. Grabbing the envelope right away and pulling it open, I about fell off my damn chair.
These are only half as sweet as your lips.
Stone
I should have taken a moment to calm down before calling him, but well, I didn’t. Instead of thinking it through and ignoring him, like I should have, I called him. That was a mistake, and I don’t make mistakes. It was the main reason I was so good at my job. I thought calling him and telling him I didn’t like his gift was a bright idea. It wasn’t, especially since he knew I was lying. Instead of eating even one piece of chocolate, I got up and walked over to the communal kitchen and placed them on the table with a note: Please help yourself.
I came back in my office and didn’t give him another thought until he texted me his number and I texted him back 9-1-1. I then put my phone down and focused on the case in front of me. Making notes, I tried not to think about the fact he didn’t get back to me. Until now. Until his fucking message popped up, making my leg bounce.