Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“Eggplants are complicated. I understand,” I say solemnly.
We head to the rooftop, and I drink in the gorgeous view of the city. “I should take some more pictures from up here. It’s stunning.”
“Yeah, the views are great,” he says, dryer than usual. Then he points across the block. “You can see The Great Dane from here.”
“And vice versa.”
I spin around and head to the planters, pluck a fava bean, and pop it into my mouth while Hayes scans the gardening instructions left in the small shed, then stares at a gigantic green leaf, also known as kale.
His brow furrows. His gaze strays from the leaf to a weed, to the instructions and back again.
I’m practically holding my breath. C’mon. Connect the dots.
“What am I even staring at? Is that kale or a weed?”
And we’re getting closer. But I’m not about to tell him. “No clue. Ask Google,” I say casually.
He snaps a pic, then, presumably uploads it.
And shit. Fuck. Hell.
He wasn’t really supposed to ask the search engine. “I think it’s a weed,” I say, before he tells me the results.
“You do?”
“Yeah. Definitely.”
“Google says it’s kale,” he says.
“Well, do you trust Google or me?”
“What do you know about gardening?”
A lot. “Enough,” I say.
“Enough to be dangerous,” he counters. Then, finally, he follows my breadcrumbs and says, “I’ll just ask Ivy. She loves to garden—said she got it from her grandma.”
Brilliant. I turn to hide my face and how pleased I am. “Have her come up. Check it out in person. Easier that way.”
I munch fava beans while he’s busy on his phone for a few minutes, then he looks up and asks, “Can she bring her dog?”
I love it when a plan comes together. “Of course.”
“Cool. I hope she’s not bummed when she sees you, though,” he says with a grimace, then a long sigh. “But she probably will be. I’d better warn her.”
“And fuck you too.”
With a smug smile, he taps out a message on his phone, then meets my eyes. “There. Let’s just hope you don’t scare her away.”
I hope the same. But I can be very convincing. For starters, I strip off my shirt.
11
THE CERTAIN SOMEONE
Ivy
I read the last message from Hayes just as I shut the door to my apartment with my pooch, post-walk.
Stefan is with him. Why does that make my pulse race and my nerves skitter?
Because he’s sexy, too, and I don’t know what to do about that.
But I also work with them, so I really shouldn’t think about either of them like that, neither a lot nor a little. I definitely shouldn’t think about Stefan’s admission as Number18—that timing is everything. That he’ll try again. I don’t even know for certain he was trying to get to know me the other day. That’s a lot to think about. To accept.
I’ll just help with the kale, then leave. With that decided and Roxy’s leash still in my hand, I spin back around and open the door again.
“Wait.”
Jackson’s deep voice booms across the living room. He’s striding through the apartment in his gym clothes, looking far too pretty to work out. But he always looks good. “Where are you going with that Imma ’bout to get some look on your face?”
I do my best to erase any pre-sex face, since we’re not, not, not having sex. Not Hayes and I, not Stefan and I, not the three…
Nope. I won’t let myself go there even in my thoughts.
“What look?” It comes out innocent. At least, I hope it does.
When Jackson reaches me, he draws an air circle around my face. “I can read you like that.”
“So you’re a face reader?”
“Yes, ma’am. And yours says I’m getting some dick.”
“Please. I’m going to see a guy at his place with a friend.”
Jackson’s eyebrows climb so high. “Let me amend that. Your face says I’m getting some…dicks,” he says, dragging out the plural.
“No, that’s not happening.” My traitorous pulse rockets.
“But it could be happening. Why have one dick when you can have two, as I like to say.”
I hold up a stop-sign hand. The more he talks about two dicks, the more flustered I’ll get hanging out with two guys. “I’m not looking for one dick, let alone two,” I sputter, feeling caught. I know I should stay away from Hayes. And Stefan. For a long list of reasons, starting with—I find both of them attractive, and that’s confusing to me.
Jackson wiggles his fingers at my phone. “Who’s the man attached to the dick? Or the men, I should say?”
“Since men are attached to their dicks, more than the other way around?”
“I like to think of the man-dick attachment as a package deal. Now, let me see.”
I huff then relent. “I’m going to see Hayes,” I begin. Easier to focus on one guy right now. The thought of a pair is throwing me into a lopsided spin cycle.