Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 116362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
“Hey,” he says softly, breaking his stare and twisting in his seat to take out his laptop. “Let’s get started.”
And somehow, just like that, he moves into work mode which makes it easier to do the same. Over the next hour we go over our notes for each other and plot and plan the next steps to finish the story with a bang.
We also order more drinks and then when my head starts getting swimmy and we’ve done all we can, we put our order in for dinner. The sun has just set over the harbor, setting the grey water ablaze with pink and yellow and casting a glow to the walls.
“Your hair is glowing,” Blake comments. “Like a bloody fireball.”
I self-consciously smooth my hair back, making sure all the strands are properly tucked into the ponytail elastic. I’m feeling a bit unraveled myself.
He takes a slow sip of water, his eyes never leaving me. “Do you ever wear it down?”
I exhale noisily. “Yes. I do. But I prefer it back. And no, I don’t want to wear contacts, I prefer my glasses.”
“I prefer your glasses too,” he says and I look at him, brows raised. He shrugs. “What? They suit you.”
Funny. Most guys want me with the glasses off but then again Blake isn’t most guys. And by that, I mean he shouldn’t be thinking of me in a sexual way and I certainly shouldn’t be entertaining it after two shrubs and an oyster stout which I tried at Blake’s urging. It was surprisingly delicious.
“So tell me more about your ex,” he says.
“Tell me more about your ex,” I counter. “What’s her name? You know mine.”
He finishes off his water and stabs the lime with his straw. “Rachel.”
“Are you pretending the lime is Rachel?”
He laughs. “This time last year, yes. Now, not so much. I don’t really think of her.”
I don’t know how I know she broke his heart but I do. I wasn’t even aware that Blake had a heart to break but I can see the undercurrent of pain there, one he’s been trying to hide behind his dimples ever since.
“Water under the bridge,” he adds, giving me a pointed look, the type that tells me to drop it.
And I really should. But there’s something inside that compels me to keep talking. Maybe it’s the shrub. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve already bared my soul to him through our story. He may not know it but there’s so much of me in Susan, in her insecurities and failures. My characters are still me, even if they are masked by fantasy and fiction.
“Well,” I say slowly, “Alan and I were together for four years. I lived with him for one. He was pretty much my best friend and always the nice guy, you know. He didn’t really have any faults but there was something missing between us and I put up with it because I didn’t know any better. I’d known him for so long and we started dating in high school and I think I was just so happy that a guy was interested in me, a guy that all the other girls wanted, that I jumped at it.”
I’m staring at the wood patterns on the table as I’m speaking and finally look up to see him. He’s listening, focused solely on me and gives me a little nod of encouragement. “Plus he was nice. I watched so many of my girlfriends get involved with the cheaters and the douchebags and I felt pretty lucky that I got a guy that wasn’t like that.” I pause, taking a sip of my drink. “But, after a while, I started to realize that he didn’t really know me. And maybe that’s my fault, maybe because I wasn’t showing myself to him. I’d always been taught to hide who I was growing up, because my parents wanted me to fit in more than anything, maybe because my sister already gave the middle finger to conformity. Anyway, long story short, New Year’s Eve Alan proposes to me in Tofino, at a party with his family and all our friends and I…I have to say no.”
“Shit,” Blake says softly. “How did that go?”
“Aside from puking on him seconds after he asked me?”
A smile spreads across his face, his eyes dancing. “You didn’t,” he says in hushed disbelief.
I nod and give him an embarrassed grin. “I did. It’s a thing that happens. Anyway. I totally broke his heart and then I vomited all over it. Not the best way to leave a relationship.”
He’s laughing softly as he leans back in his chair, running his fingers over his jaw. “That’s true but still. Damn. I guess it means I’m a horrible person that I find it all bloody hilarious.”
“I’m sure I’ll laugh one day.”