Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 38276 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 128(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38276 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 128(@300wpm)
I pull away from her, taking her hand and leading her away from the dance floor to the patio that overlooks the ocean. The salt air fills my lungs as we get to the railing that follows along the line of the roof. The dance room’s walls are all glass and that allows the lights to filter out in a rainbow of colors. The open area we just walked through is one giant door that lifts like a garage door but recedes out of sight completely, leaving the space open and inviting.
This isn’t my usual type of space. Niko and I weren’t born into this life, yet with Zoe next to me, I find that I feel like a king. I watch her as she takes in the view and smiles.
“I know you don’t know me, but eventually, you’ll understand that I don’t operate in the way you’re accusing me. I legitimately want to spend time with you.”
She looks at me for a second before asking the dreaded question. This could be a make or break with some women, and I don’t like that she wants to pick apart my answers.
“Why?” she asks.
“Why?”
“Yeah, why do you want to get to know me?”
“I didn’t know I needed a reason, but I have a few.”
“What are they?”
“I’m attracted to you, you’re beautiful, and I want to know more about you,” I respond, waiting to see if I’m passing some kind of invisible test that she’s giving me. The more we talk, the more I like her. She’s inquisitive and not afraid to challenge me as some others are. It’s also interesting that she’s not blindly accepting my answers. She seems to want to pick me apart with rational judgment. As an attorney that does that exact thing without thought, I find it only adds to her appeal.
“Beauty is subjective. I know darn well that I’m not the kind of woman you normally date,” she says, shaking her head.
“How do you know that? You know nothing about me,” I counter.
“I know your type,” Zoe argues.
“Doubtful.” I don’t even bother fighting the smile coming to my lips.
With a frown, Zoe continues, “Your suit is expensive enough to feed a third-world country for a year, if not longer. You’re a lawyer who reeks of money—smooth and confident. If we saw one another in a regular day-to-day setting, you wouldn’t spare me a second glance.”
“You’re wrong,” I tell her, getting a laugh out of her.
“Yeah, right,” she scoffs, shaking her head as she fights the urge to roll her eyes.
“You’re too young to be so jaded,” I tell her. I want to fix that. I want to make her believe she’s worth the world.
“Life taught me to be that way,” Zoe says. I can’t help but think that we are more alike than she thinks.
“Give me a chance to prove to you I mean what I say. Go out with me tomorrow night. Just you and me.”
“Oh no,” Zoe laughs, holding her hands up in a stop position as if to ward off my invitation. Sadly for her, that only adds to my determination.
I sigh, knowing she’s going to make me work for it, which is fine because I can already tell that she’s more than worth it. I already want to claim her. Claim her as mine. She is mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.
Chapter 6
Zoe
Being at home, I enjoy the familiarity of the small house. It’s not over the top. Everything is clean and simple. The kitchen is also the dining room. The small island in the middle turns into a bar with stools, which erases the need for a kitchen table and makes better use of the area—especially since counter space is so limited. I smile every time I see it because my dad built it for my mom, and even though he was the one that did most of the cooking, she loved to sit there and watch him do it.
The bright colors of the walls were entirely her idea. Mom loved the bright yellow. She said life was harsh and dull enough. The curtains, rugs, and everything else she could find at the thrift stores are covered in lemons. It all reminded her of warm sunshine on the beach.
It’s been a week since I met Callan at the dinner Emilia dragged me to. The man has crept into my thoughts or popped into my mind at random times throughout the day ever since. He is now, but I’m trying my best to stop myself from acknowledging it.
I’ve decided to make a special dinner tonight since dad will be home. It’s rare for him not to work a twelve-hour shift. His work ethic didn’t stop when my schooling was suddenly paid for. While he no longer had to work two jobs, he kept his regular shifts with extended hours. I know cooking is the last thing he wants to do when he comes home, so I try to relieve the burden when I can. I’m making his favorite—meatloaf, mashed potatoes, corn, and coleslaw. I’ve missed him. I hope that now that school is done, we will get more time together.