Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
A little. I don’t remember what she first said to me because I focused too much on her lips and the probability of getting her out of those leggings without destroying them. The only words I can easily recall are the ones where she revealed her weakness.
The kiss.
She doesn’t want me to kiss her because she knows that’s her weakness.
“Why are you grinning like you did, in fact, have sex with her?”
I press my lips together to suppress my grin. “Did you climb that one?” I nod to the red route.
“Yes. I did that while you were having sex with Anna in the bathroom.”
I have nothing but my unavoidable, truth-spilling grin.
We boulder for another hour. While we head toward the exit, I slow my pace to catch a glimpse of Anna in the office. As if she knows I’m staring at her—as if she knows she’s helpless to said stare—her gaze shifts from the computer screen to me.
“I’ll call you,” I say with my best smile and a confident wink.
The girl who blabber-mouthed about the thousand dollars steps away from the counter to give me a better view of Anna.
“Call the gym if you have membership questions.” Anna returns her gaze to the screen, nervously chewing on her bottom lip.
“My only question is, when can I kiss you again?”
Harper snorts behind me while the girl at the desk turns almost as red in the face as Anna—almost.
“I—” Anna cuts herself off, quickly glancing at Harper.
“If we need to talk privately again, the bathroom works for me.” I shrug.
When Anna returns a mortified expression, Harper jerks her head toward the door. “I’m … uh … going to head home. See you tomorrow.”
“Okay,” I say without taking my eyes off Anna.
“I have a date tonight.” Anna tips up her chin.
“Hmm …” I pop my lips several times. “Why would you have a date when we just got back together?”
“We didn’t get back together.” She crosses her arms.
“Yeah, we did.” I hold up my hands and slowly bring them together, interlacing my fingers. “We literally got back together.”
Her face turns deep crimson while her jaw works overtime. She’s not enjoying my humor. And if I’m being honest, I’m not enjoying hers. Surely this date is a joke. Right? “Lucky guy,” I say, turning toward the door. “Have a good time. Make sure he pays and wears a condom.”
Am I good with her having sex with another guy? Hell no. But fuck it all if I’m going to let her see my disappointment.
I don’t miss her tiny flinch as she deflates a fraction, which feels like a win for me or at least a point.
“Later, neighbor.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Anna
“So you are a thing.” Kenzie eyes me after the door closes behind Eric.
“No.” I return to the office, keeping my gaze on my feet, my heart locked in self-preservation, and my mind replaying his words.
Eric swooped into my life and claimed way more headspace than I could afford to give him. I wish I knew how to take it back. Erase all that we’ve done.
I wish I could unmeet him and have a redo under different circumstances.
After work, I take my computer to Ritual Cafe, where I have a date with a brownie, a cup of decaf, and my laptop to get more work done. An hour after pushing myself to focus, I dig my Kindle out of my handbag and bring up The Last Person.
I reread one page at a time, one line at a time. Maybe Eric’s right.
Maybe it’s a flawed story.
Maybe the writing is sophomoric.
Maybe it’s redundant, predictable, and self-indulgent.
Maybe B. Ashton will never write another book.
Maybe I’m not only her number one fan but her only fan.
It’s just …
It’s tough to fall in love with something and feel judged for that love. Books possess power. They are no more ink and paper than humans are flesh and bones.
Humans have souls … books have souls.
They reach across oceans. Bridge divides.
They are so much more than the hands that write them. Books transcend time. Stories don’t die. They are immortal. They are timeless.
I guess I’m a romantic for books. When someone shares my love of a story, it reaches deeper than a kiss, and it’s a bond that can’t be broken.
That’s why I should only let Eric steal me momentarily, give him my flesh and bones and my temporary wandering mind. What happens when the physical fades, and we’re left with the hard reality that his wind doesn’t blow in the direction of my soul?
I chuckle at the direction of my mind.
“Laughing at yourself?”
My head jerks toward the familiar voice.
“Hey, Carson. What are you up to?” I move my bag so he can take a seat.
“Saw you in the window.”
“Laughing at myself?” I wrinkle my nose.
“Yeah.” He slides his leg against mine.
My eyebrows lift. “How’s the new girlfriend?”