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)
“It did,” he says, staring at the ceiling. He’s pensive for a beat, and I give him the time he needs till he turns to me. “But then you move on.”
“Truer words,” I say.
Even though last night feels distinctly like a one-night stand, this morning feels like a deep conversation with someone you want to see again. Especially when Stefan nuzzles me and says, “There you go again. Making me open up.”
I laugh lightly. “I didn’t make you.”
“Yes, you did.”
I swat his arm playfully. “I didn’t!”
“You absolutely did. Just like at the party. You’re too easy to talk to.”
“Other people aren’t?”
“There’s this thing called questions. Most people don’t ask them.”
That’s so strange to me. “How else would you get to know someone?”
“Excellent question. I have no idea, but most people I’ve met don’t ask me all the things I like about Denmark, like you did that day, or if my grandmother’s cats were taken care of, like you did on the patio.”
I don’t even try to hide my smile as I say, “You like to ask questions too.”
“You got me there,” he says, and he’s light again, breezy again. “Though, come to think of it, you were a little standoffish that day at the rink the other week.”
Chagrined, I admit the truth. “I thought you were still with Annika.”
He rolls his eyes. “Woman, I was flirting with you. Was that not obvious? Do I need to up my flirting game?”
“Oh, I knew you were flirting. I just didn’t know you were single.”
He shoots me a serious stare. “I’d never flirt with you if I was involved with someone. I’m certainly not going to go out and flirt with another woman later today for that matter either.”
Does that mean he thinks we’re involved? Or just that it’d be tacky to flirt with someone else after fucking another woman? Probably the latter.
“Good. Then I won’t flirt with someone else today either,” I say, then let my eyes drift to Hayes. “Except for maybe Hayes.”
I say it to test the possibility. I truly don’t know how far this sharing extends. Stefan’s eyes twinkle, but then the man in bed with us stirs, shifting slightly under the sheet. Both Stefan and I go starkly quiet.
With one deep sigh, our bedmate is breathing steadily again, snoozing. I relax.
“Here’s a question,” Stefan says quietly. “What happened to Fedora Fuckface?”
A laugh bursts from my chest. Immediately, I slam a hand to my mouth so I don’t wake Sleeping Beauty. When my laughter settles, I answer. “The jackass hooked up with my boss. Well, former boss.”
Stefan’s jaw drops. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
I flash a fake smile, one clearly meant for Xander. “I wish. But he also dumped me saying he needed and deserved a girlfriend upgrade. It turned out he was banging my boss while he was with me and while I was working for her.”
I tell Stefan the rest of the story and with each successive morsel, his jaw drops farther. When I drop the tidbit about the blow job engagement picture, Stefan’s jaw is unhinged. Then he’s speechless for a long beat. “Holy shit. I always thought he was a twat with those stupid hats. But fuuuck. That’s award-level douchery. I’d like to kill him for hurting you.”
I smile stupidly. I shouldn’t enjoy this caveman side of him. But I do.
“You’d like that?” he asks with a quirk in his lips.
I smile and shrug. “Maybe.”
“He never deserved you.”
“I’m sort of learning that.”
“Also, his wedding sounds like a train wreck.”
“They invited me to it,” I say, and once those words come out, it hits me that I’ve still got to plan for this event. “It’s in a few months.”
He growls. “You laughed in their fucking faces, right?”
“Actually,” I begin, then I tell him the story of how I landed a plum gig covering their wedding.
When I’m done, Stefan nods, clearly impressed. “You’re brilliant, Ivy. I thought that at the event in the park. I was impressed by your quick wit.”
“Thank you,” I say, a little awkwardly. I’m not used to compliments from men that sound so genuine.
“Seriously. I mean it. You’re going to do huge things. And even though your ex is a dick, I love that you turned this around into a chance for you. Your writing is fun and fresh.”
“I like that you found my writing,” I admit.
“Took you long enough to figure out it was me,” he teases.
“Oh, excuse me for not memorizing your jersey number.”
“Bet you won’t forget it now.” He tips his forehead to our bedmate. “Or Number Twenty-one.”
“My lucky numbers,” I add, feeling sassy with him, feeling confident.
His eyes twinkle. He likes this side of me. “They’d better be.”
But before we get sidetracked with this flirting, I return to the wedding story, compelled to tell the rest of it. If I didn’t, I’d be keeping something from Stefan and that seems wrong after last night, but mostly after what he just shared with me. “That’s how I met Hayes—after the invite to my ex’s wedding. I’d just found out about their engagement when I ran into Hayes in the elevator for the first time. I poured out my whole sob story to him. He volunteered to go to the wedding as my plus-one.”