Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Sam giggles. “Yes. But seeing as you’ve never had a drink of anything more adult than club soda, you’re gonna have the spins.”
“The spins, oh my god, yes. I think I am heading into the spins.”
“Right, you’re cut off, you lush,” Sam says, taking the fishbowl away from me. He pecks at his phone with an elegantly manicured finger then says, “Dad. SOS.”
Mike’s gorgeous face appears on the other side of the FaceTime screen. I resist the urge to swoon right into a heap on the slightly sticky booth seat.
Mike sweeps his big, muscular hand through his salt and pepper hair. I can tell from what’s behind him that he’s not at home; things that look vaguely like motorcycle parts line the shelves behind him. So that’s what he does instead of hovering. “Tell me.”
Sam flips the camera around as he explains, “Wine-a-rita. Big one. Chilis on Route 8.”
Mike chuckles out a laugh. I hear keys jingle. “You good, Jess?”
I prop my face up with my hand and can’t help but stare at him like a star-struck little girl. Even his eyebrows are gorgeous. “We’re going to have brownie sundaes next. Gonna be ‘mmmmmmazing.”
Mike lets out a deep, sexy laugh. “I’ll just drop off the bike and grab my pickup. I’ll be there before you know it.”
He looks at me for a long second and behind my belly button there is this fluttery warmth then he says, “Happy Birthday, Jess. Welcome to adulthood.”
And the screen goes dark but everything inside me light up.
Our sundaes arrive, mine with a candle in it, and the whole waitstaff sings happy birthday to me. I am dying with embarrassment but loving it so much. And then I am lost in the magical land of warm brownies and cold ice cream and caramel sauce. The best.
Once we’re done eating, I manage to gulp down two big glasses of water. Sam pays the bill and we totter off toward the unisex bathrooms. “God. I love gender equality!” Sam says, holding the door open for me. Together we pee, in adjoining stalls, and then do our lip gloss in the big mirror. Sam is just fussing for the sake of fussing. But I’m fussing… for Mike.
Sam’s phone chirps and he takes my arm in his, leading me outside into the fresh night air. A group of guys is off to one side, being loud and rowdy. But I barely notice them. Because there, standing by his big, burly, black pickup, is Mike.
And my whole body says, Hiiiiii.
CHAPTER 2
Mike
I’ve known her for her entire life, but not until this past year did I start seeing her the way I do right now.
And not until this moment did she make my dick rock hard.
This is not supposed to happen.
But the truth is, I fucking want her. With every cell in my goddamned body. Even though I know I shouldn’t. Even though I know we can’t.
It’s like my entire being knew I had to hold it together until today. The ethical and moral balancing act happening in the background of my consciousness has reached the finishing line and fuck, the things that have swept through my mind today nearly brought me to my knees.
I crack my neck side to side and open the passenger’s door of my pickup. Sam gracefully jumps in the back of the king cab. Jess, though, is a little more unsteady, and instinctively I grab her hand to steady her and guide her up into the passenger’s seat.
I wish I could give her something for her birthday. I thought about it for months. Wanted to send her a thousand orchids or roses or something but I had to hold back my obsession. She’s fucking eighteen and I’m twice her age plus a few years.
She looks up at me, wide and innocent. In the parking lot lights, I see her pretty cheeks flush. Her lips are shiny and full. She’s not a girl anymore. She’s a woman. And fuck, she is so goddamned beautiful.
She blinks a few times and squeezes my hand. The way she’s touching me, it’s different than it used to be. It’s softer. And sweeter. Like she’s trying to tell me something with every touch.
Fuck almighty. Is she flirting with me? With her fingers?
I can’t let my head go there. She’s tipsy and I know it. First and always, I want to look after her. “Thanks for coming to get us,” she slurs, her words a little sloppy but her eyes are crystal clear.
Seeing her tipsy and vulnerable, it triggers all my alpha protectiveness. I want to be her shelter from everything the world. In my periphery I see a group of guys watching her climb up into the passenger’s seat. One of them lets out a whistle, and I level him with a glare.