Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“I guess I should probably fix that washing machine drum now,” he griped, laughing when I tiredly reached out and poked him in the side.
“I’m sorry it wasn’t everything you’d hoped for,” I mumbled dryly, not bothering to lift my head from the pillow.
“The hell it wasn’t,” he said happily, grinning at the ceiling. “I’ve still got that mental snapshot.”
I snorted halfheartedly. I was already starting to doze off.
Rumi woke me two more times that night, his hands roaming over my body. It was like he couldn’t get enough and I happily obliged. By the time his alarm went off the next morning I was laying there in a boneless heap, wondering how the hell I was going to force my body upright for work.
“You’re going on Saturday, right?” Rumi asked as he tiredly climbed out of bed to shut off the alarm.
“Yeah,” I muttered, not even wanting to think about moving for the next few days. “I work the day shift.”
“Perfect.”
As soon as he was dressed and left the room, I climbed out of bed and stumbled out to my clothes. I’d never look at any laundry room the same way again. I’d barely pulled on my shirt when Rumi came to the doorway and glanced at the dryer.
“You know—”
“Give me some time to recuperate,” I joked, reaching up to pull my hair into a bun. “Then we can try the dryer.”
“It’s like a giant vibrator,” he replied thoughtfully. He grimaced. “Sore?”
“Feeling a little tender,” I confirmed with a nod. I smiled at him. “Worth it.”
He took a step forward, and I recognized the look in his eye, so I tilted my head back a little, waiting for his kiss. Then he stopped himself less than a foot away.
“You leavin’ now or you wanna lock up later?” he asked, like he hadn’t just been about to kiss me.
“I’ll follow you out,” I replied quickly, a little embarrassed.
I didn’t let myself think about the way he’d frozen until I was in my car on the way home. For a second there, I’d forgotten that we were friends. I’d tipped my head back to kiss him goodbye like we were in some kind of relationship. This wasn’t a romance.
Me and Rumi had always been affectionate and that hadn’t changed—but we didn’t kiss unless it was a prelude to sex. Somehow that line had been drawn and I hadn’t even realized it, but he must’ve. That was why he’d stopped himself.
But he’d started to do it unconsciously, and that meant something, right? I needed to be careful that the little bubble of hope that seemed to float just out of popping distance didn’t grow into something unmanageable. We’d both agreed that the sex had no strings, and I needed to remember that. I knew all of the reasons that hooking up with Rumi for real was a terrible idea.
But that little bubble of hope kept floating in and out of my consciousness anyway.
Chapter 11
Rumi
“I’ll have another,” I shouted, making my uncle Casper laugh and smack me on the back.
“What the hell are you doin’ here on a Thursday night getting’ plastered?” he asked, shaking his head.
“What’s wrong with Thursday?” I asked, grinning. “And why are you here on a Thursday night?”
“The women are havin’ a girls’ night over at Dragon’s place,” he said in amusement. “I’m here to drive your aunt Farrah’s drunk ass home later.”
“Gotcha,” I replied. Drunk Aunt Farrah was legendary.
There were only a few times in my memory when she’d gotten crazy at the clubhouse, but it was hilarious every time. She went out of her way to drive Uncle Casper out of his mind and the resulting fireworks usually ended up with her thrown over his shoulder being carried out of the clubhouse.
“You know,” I said thoughtfully. “Aunt Farrah’s a lot like my mom.”
“Shit,” Uncle Casper drawled. “You just realize that?”
“Must be exhausting,” I joked in commiseration.
“Probably more so for your pop,” he said wryly. “At least I’m not as nuts as my wife. Tommy, on the other hand, tips the scales in that relationship.”
“Truth.”
Uncle Casper sat down on the barstool next to mine. “We’ve all mellowed quite a bit,” he said, shooting me a smile. “Shoulda seen it in the old days.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Your aunt once climbed on a pool table and started shakin’ her ass in the middle of a party just to piss me off.”
“Can’t say I’m sorry I missed it.”
Uncle Casper laughed. “Your dad wasn’t even born then.”
“Doubt he’s sorry he missed it either,” I joked, saluting him with my beer.
“When your mom first started comin’ around,” Uncle Casper said, a little smile on his face. “She and your dad nearly lit the entire back field on fire.”
I sat up straighter. “Wait, you’re serious?”
“Oh, yeah.” Uncle Casper chuckled. “Thought your granddad was going to murder Tommy.”