Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 137310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Hugger was now leaning a hip against her bathroom counter, arms crossed on his chest, watching her put on makeup and listening.
“Wild story, babe. But sounds like you dodged a drama bullet.”
“Yep,” she agreed. Then, all Diana what seemed to be all the time, she kept giving it. “The other guy, well, we just weren’t meant for each other. It was crazy, but we both kinda figured out we were going through the motions at the same time. He asked if we could have a quiet night ‘to chat’ the same day I was going to go home and ask him to have a ‘chat.’”
She shrugged and switched up makeup shit.
And she kept talking.
“We’re still friends, mostly. I mean, if I ran into him, we’d be nice to each other. We don’t hang out or anything.”
“Right,” he muttered.
“You?” she asked the mirror.
“What?”
She turned to him. “Have you ever lived with anybody?”
“My ma. A coupla roommates. No woman,” he shared, feeling some discomfort in doing it.
Her brows drifted up. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-five. And just so you know, never had a woman in my life for more than a coupla months either.”
Now she was staring at him. “Really?”
He nodded.
“You’re sweet. You’re protective. You’re insanely hot. You bring a girl coffee. So the question must be asked, why on earth not?”
It felt good, all those things she said about him.
Damn good.
But that was an excellent question.
The one who he had, Mandy, was solid. Great smile. Good in bed. Had her shit together.
Though, if it had lasted with Mandy, he wouldn’t have a shot with Diana, so he was glad it didn’t.
“Harlan?” Diana called.
He focused on her and said quietly, “Think that’s part of the shit I didn’t want to lay on you, baby. And we gotta talk about that, because, now we’re without any distractions, we gotta figure out what this is and how hard we wanna fight for it.”
“I think I already know how hard I wanna fight for it,” she declared.
Now he felt even more uncomfortable.
“Babe—”
She shook her head and turned to the mirror, interrupting him. “This isn’t a conversation for now. Let’s have a normal day, the dinner with Dad notwithstanding. We can make a date to talk about serious stuff later. I’m thinking Saturday. No, we should have a fun day Saturday. Let’s do it Sunday.”
Hugger felt his lips curl up. “Right. So we got a date to do that Sunday, four days from now when we’re essentially livin’ together and I’ll be going to work with you, so we got all sorts of time to talk.”
She was at her cheeks with a bigger brush. “But we’re talking about that stuff on Sunday.”
“Right,” he repeated.
“Do you want me to take my makeup to the bedroom to finish this so you can shower?”
“I can shower in the guest room.”
She pushed closer to the mirror to get a better view of what she was doing, which tipped her fine ass up, and she did this while mumbling, “Okay, honey.”
He liked the sight of her ass tipped up like that in her short robe. He liked that she called him honey. He also liked that she seemed totally cool with putting on her makeup while he brushed his teeth beside her, in her nice bathroom with the handles on her sky-blue drawers and cupboards being glass with gold hardware. The blue, gold and white wallpaper on one wall being both a geometric design, but there were also flowers. More flowers, these fake but looking real, a small bouquet of them between his sink and hers.
This space, like all her space, was her. Sharp, smart and sophisticated, but full of personality. Attractive. Welcoming. And he felt good in it.
What he didn’t like was knowing he was a man without a lot to offer, and she was a woman who should have it all.
But they’d talk about that Sunday.
Now, he needed to get a shower.
In the small parking lot outside her work, as necessary, Diana popped off the bike before he swung his leg over.
He did this with his eyes on her, coming off liking what he was feeling, Di on the back of his bike with him, to liking what he was seeing.
She was wearing a pair of brown pants with wide legs and a wide black belt through the hoops, a tight black top that had no sleeves, and shiny black pumps that had a strap over the top of her foot.
Hugger never in his life found a woman dressed like that for work, entirely—no, almost excruciatingly—fuckable. And it wasn’t (only) about how hot it was that Di jumped on his bike in that getup like she’d been riding behind him on it for the last decade.
But since Maddy left, he was finding everything about Di fuckable. Though, deep down, he knew, before Maddy left, it was just that all the shit going down with Maddy could take his mind off it.