Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
“Herman Munster?” I giggle.
“That’s right.” He points to my phone. “Choose an app. We’re going through the candidates.”
“What, now?”
“Next weekend.” His eyes dance with mischief. “I’m choosing your date, and you’re choosing mine.”
One date from hell for you coming right up.
I pick up my phone. “Sounds good to me.”
Two hours later
Blake bursts out laughing as he reads my phone.
“What?” I laugh before I even know what he’s going to say. We’ve been in hysterics all night. Who knew going through a dating site for someone else could be so funny?
“Listen to this . . .” He laughs again before he composes himself to read the blurb.
Cuckhold wanted.
He tips his head back and laughs again as he slaps the table.
“What?” I laugh. The thing is, I think we may be delirious by this point and are laughing at literally everything. He tries to straighten his face so that he can spit it out.
Looking for a jockey to ride my friends.
I laugh out loud. “What?” I put my hands over my mouth. “Surely not.”
Blake is laughing so hard, he’s not making any noise.
I have tears streaming down my face from laughing. This has been the funniest night of all time.
If you like being watched enjoying men, by your man.
I’m your guy.
“I don’t understand.” I frown. “He wants someone to bang his friends?”
“I think so.”
“Why would he want that?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I think he wants to watch his friends get their cocks out, but he can’t let them know he’s into them, so he throws a decoy into the picture.”
I laugh again.
“Excuse me,” the waitress says as she interrupts our hilarity.
“Yes.” I continue to wipe my tears.
“We’re closed, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Blake and I look around the restaurant to see that it’s empty. “Oh, sorry.”
We instantly get up and make our way to the reception area, where we pay.
I’m teetering in my heels after a few of those lethal coffees, but Blake’s barely sipped at his drinks all night because he is driving.
We push out of the doors, and I go to walk to the left, and Blake grabs my hand and pulls me to the right. “This way.” He throws his arm around me, and we walk to the car.
“If you make my date with Mr. Cuckhold, I’ll never forgive you.”
“Yeah, well, if you make my date with Miss Instagram Famous, I would rather die.”
We laugh again as we arrive at the car, and Blake turns me toward him.
“You know, sometimes I wish I didn’t live on Kingston Lane,” he says softly.
“You do?” I frown. “How come?”
“Because then . . . we wouldn’t be friends.”
My eyes search his.
“And . . .”
He pulls my spaghetti strap back up onto my shoulder. “And what?” I whisper.
“And . . . we could have just met as strangers.”
Everyone else in the street disappears as we stare at each other.
“And I would have asked for your number.”
Chapter 11
My face falls. Oh no.
Why on earth would he want to risk our friendship for something that we both know would never work out?
“Blake—”
“I know,” he cuts me off.
“It’s just—”
“I know.” He opens the car door for me, and unsure of what to say, I slide into the car.
He gets into the driver’s seat, pulls out of the parking lot, and we begin to drive in silence.
Gone is the laughter that’s been between us, replaced by . . . I don’t even know what feeling this is.
And I would have asked for your number.
Horror, this is horror.
I stare straight ahead through the windshield as I try to make sense of what just happened.
Did he mean what it sounded like he meant, or have I totally misread this situation?
I glance over to Blake as he drives. He’s silent and somber. His jaw is ticking, as if he’s thinking, or perhaps something else . . . Is he angry?
“Um . . .” I try to think of something to say that will rectify this situation. “What have you got going on tomorrow?” I ask.
“Not much.” His fingers tighten around the steering wheel.
I stare over at him as I wait for him to say something . . . he doesn’t.
“I had a great time tonight.” I smile awkwardly.
He nods and keeps his eyes on the road. “Same.”
He can’t even look at me.
Fuck.
I twist my fingers together on my lap. Why would he say that . . . he knows we’re not like that. This is a disaster.
“Are you going to call Ruby?” I smile hopefully.
He shrugs.
“I’m not going to call Herman.” I shrug. “But I guess that was pretty obvious already.”
More silence, more staring through the windshield.
“So . . .” I shrug. I scramble for conversation, anything to restore how we were just ten minutes ago. “I’m going to set you up for your date next week with someone insanely hot.”