Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Padding softly, I grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator and head for my room, turning the lights off as I go. I climb into my bed and get under the covers, leaning back into my headboard and pervishly waiting for the sound of Beau’s shower to start. It may not be Avery’s wild time with an Alabama football player, but my little hoochie-coochie will get double the enjoyment out of fantasizing about the man next door with the auditory evidence of his nakedness as a soundtrack.
I close my eyes, ready to wait, but a ping notification from my phone goes off in the silence instead, scaring the living crap out of me. I snag my phone from its spot on the bed and claw my way to sitting straight.
New Message from ThunderStruck sits front and center on the screen.
Beau is messaging me? Holy shit!
When my phone chimes again with the same little chirpy sound and New Message from ThunderStruck pops up on the screen for a second time, I almost jump all the way to my ceiling.
Beau is messaging me!
With shaky fingers, I fight to slip my phone over and switch off the ringer on the off chance that he pays attention to my side of the wall and gets suspicious, and I ready myself to read what he has to say.
Two deep breaths, in and out, in and out. Fuck, I’m nervous.
My heart threatens to burrow into my throat at the thought of Beau sitting just on the other side of my wall, but I swallow hard against it and force myself to open Midnight.
ThunderStruck: I need to know. Who are you?
ThunderStruck: Seriously. It’s driving me crazy.
I let out a deep exhale of air, thankful that he hasn’t suddenly figured out who I am. Clearly, his interrogation of half the staff this morning didn’t give him any leads, and as much as the naïve part of me wishes it were obvious it’s me, the realistic part knows this is way better. I’m not…forward. I’m not bold. I don’t take what I want and ask questions later like Avery does, and I don’t even know how to start.
Beau sees me like he does for many reasons—way more than being his five-years-younger-sister’s best friend. I’ve never in my life pushed the envelope when it comes to him, despite feeling like I should nearly every damn day.
Maybe this…maybe being anonymous is my shot to try it. Maybe tonight, I shouldn’t cut the messaging off at the knees before it has a chance to get interesting.
I mean, this is my shot. A chance to lay it all out there and see if we’d actually be a good match. If we’re not, maybe then I’ll be able to put this lifelong crush behind me.
Determined to see where this goes, I type out a response.
ElizaBeth: Driving you crazy? That doesn’t sound good.
ThunderStruck: Exactly. It’s not good. Dangerous, even.
ElizaBeth: Dangerous? Should I call Crime Stoppers?
ThunderStruck: C’mon, just tell me.
ElizaBeth: I can’t.
ThunderStruck: How about you just tell me your first name?
ElizaBeth: Nope.
ThunderStruck: Your initials.
ElizaBeth: Come on. You know that would make it too easy to figure out who I am.
ThunderStruck: The company has hundreds of employees. It wouldn’t be THAT easy.
ElizaBeth: We both know it’d only take a quick search through the Human Resources database to narrow down the options. And we also both know that since you’re Neil Banks’s son, you could easily get Cheryl to help you.
ThunderStruck: Are you Cheryl?
ElizaBeth: I don’t know. Does this seem like something Cheryl would do?
ThunderStruck: No. I guess not. Not likely for anyone in Human Resources at all to be messaging secretly.
ThunderStruck: Or maybe it IS LIKELY? And that’s why you’re trying to keep this all hush-hush?
ElizaBeth: If I WERE in human resources, would I have to be a resource for humans? Because I’m not sure that’s me.
ThunderStruck: Fucking hell.
ElizaBeth: LOL.
ThunderStruck: If you were on your way into work and you had the option to stop for Starbucks and be late or skip the Starbucks and be on time, which would you do?
I snort to myself, knowing full well he’s currently wondering if his own sister is fucking with him. It’s an option I’m quick to dispel since flirting is my end goal. His thinking it’s Avery would really get things weird fast.
ElizaBeth: I’d be on time.
ThunderStruck: Okay. Are you the type of person who goes to church every Sunday but listens to death metal music while you’re working on spreadsheets?
ElizaBeth: Excel isn’t a strength. I Google shortcuts every time I have to use it, but death metal has its moments.
ThunderStruck: When’s the last time you shared a recipe on Facebook, and what crockpot meal was it for?
ElizaBeth: LOL. Not a single time in my life, and I don’t own a crockpot. I should probably get one, tho. I hear they’re nice. Also, are these actual things our coworkers have done? Or are you pulling shit out of thin air?