Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“I don’t get why you’re so cocky,” I told him.
“Why do you care if I am or not?” he countered, which was annoying as shit. Questions answered with questions weren’t high on my list of favorites.
“I don’t care. It’s just…annoying.”
Surprisingly, he shrugged and smiled. “Yeah, I’m oddly fascinated with you too. We don’t know each other. We’ve never hung out. You don’t like me, though. It’s similar to those kids on the playground. When they have a crush on someone, they pretend they don’t like them. That’s the only thing I can come up with when it comes to you.”
“What?” I nearly spit out my drink. “I don’t have a crush on you, and I’m not oddly fascinated with you. Maybe you are with me, but it’s not a two-way street.”
Something about this conversation was eerily familiar. It felt like one I’d have with Anon…with S… Noooooo! That would be too big a coincidence. Nope. I wasn’t even entertaining that idea. It was absurd.
“Sure. Whatever you say,” Shaw replied.
“Who even says stuff like that? Who tells a person who they like? You’re not my type.”
“Okay, if you insist. I’m just saying you have really strong feelings about me when you don’t actually know me.”
He had a point there. I didn’t get him. The overconfidence, the hookups, the insanely good looks. “Who’s the one always trying to talk to me?”
“Well, I hope it’s not you. I mean, everyone talks to themselves sometimes, but the way you made it sound…”
“Ha. Ha.” I rolled my eyes at Shaw. Shaw. S. But there were a million possibilities with the letter S. I would literally…hell, I didn’t know what I would do if it was him, but it wouldn’t be pretty, and it might include never leaving my apartment again.
“So your crew had to work?” Shaw asked before taking a drink.
“Yeah, and what about you? You always have that guy over. I don’t know his name. You have a person too.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
Something about the softness of his reply, the affection in his words, was completely different. I’d never heard Shaw sound like that before. Not that I spent a whole lot of time having deep conversations with the guy, but still. “Oh, wow. That sounded almost…sweet. Maybe there’s a little more between the two of you.”
A laugh jumped out of Shaw’s mouth. It seemed to surprise him too, and it was obvious my little joke was far off.
“No, no. If you’re insinuating I have romantic feelings for my best friend, you couldn’t be further off. First, I have zero plans on settling down with anyone. Second, falling for your best friend is a mistake. There are too many complications, not to mention the fear of telling someone how you feel. Third, if I did, and as I said, I don’t, I would tell him, and then he would let me know he feels the same because duh, me.”
My pulse plummeted. The world stopped. Or not but it felt like it to me. Everything Shaw said sounded too familiar. It was him.
My hands shook, so I shoved them under the table. My vision went blurry, and my head started spinning, and oh Lord. I was gonna pass out. Was I really going to pass out? If I did, would he know why? Forget that it made no sense. It was exactly where my brain went, and then another thought hit me—did he know I was ILWMBF? Because this was him. It had to be him even though the odds were supposed to be impossible, and how in the hell had this happened?
“Elijah?” Shaw frowned with what looked like worry turning his lips down and wrinkling the corners of his eyes. He was concerned, and we didn’t do that. I didn’t like him, and I didn’t like Anon either, though I sort of did with Anon, but I really, really couldn’t like Shaw. This shit was fucked up.
And it couldn’t be him. I refused to believe it was. “I’m fine, just…not feeling real great. So, what did you do last night?” Maybe he would say he was out all night and then I’d know it couldn’t have been him.
His frown deepened. “I think that’s the first time you’ve asked me something like that. And not much. I didn’t have sex, if that’s what you’re wondering. Well, not with anyone other than myself. Oh, and I had ravioli from that little place down the…”
That was all I heard. There was static in my ears that kept getting louder. Anon—S—spoke and flirted and had an abnormally large head, exactly like Shaw. S had mentioned Italian last night. The guy had come to my door by mistake. I’d opened the door, but he’d waved me off, saying it was the wrong apartment. I’d been too busy thinking about Danny to consider that the delivery guy had come to my place, and S had Italian too. In my defense, who in the hell could have seen this coming? It should have been impossible.