Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
The question reminds me of one tiny detail I haven’t shared yet. “Um, no, but he does have a son. A son I sort of maybe…dated for a little while last year?”
“What?” she squawks, loud enough to summon several outraged meowing sounds from the background. “And you left this out of the story because why? Don’t you know by now that I live for drama like this, woman? You should have told us all at the lobster boil before you left. We could have watched Maya come unglued at the thought of all the conflict in your future. There is conflict, right? Or are they like…cool with sharing?”
“They’re not sharing,” I say, my nose wrinkling. “And I didn’t tell you before because I didn’t know until last night. Neither did Gideon. As soon as he realized Adrian and I used to be a thing, he wanted to call it off. But then we went for pancakes and one thing led to another and…”
“You ended up sleeping over at his place,” she supplies. “Of course, you did. Pancakes are underrated as an aphrodisiac. Also salads. A fresh salad with a zesty dressing totally does it for me. I get frisky just walking through a farmer’s market, buying ingredients. So, when are you going to see him again?”
I ease into an empty bench with a view of kids playing hopscotch on the pavement not far away. “I don’t know. But he’s going to call me. He said he would, and he’s not the kind of guy to say something he doesn’t mean.”
She coos again. “I love him already. What about you? Are you still falling hard?”
“Yes,” I whisper, even though there’s no one close enough to hear. “But what if that’s only because there’s something wrong with me?”
She snorts. “What the hell are you talking about? There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re fabulous, not to mention one of my best friends. And I don’t have lame best friends. I just don’t. I’m too good at friendship.”
I smile, but my stomach is tight as I say, “You are good at friendship. I’m good at friendship, too, but I’m not so great at dating. I managed to make it to twenty-four without getting laid, Elaina. And as soon as I started sleeping with someone, I developed a praise kink almost immediately.”
“Woah,” she says, letting out a long, slow breath. “That is so baller. You’re my idol.”
I laugh and roll my eyes. “Why? Because I’m a weirdo who likes to be told I’m a good girl while doing filthy things to an older man in bed? And who also really likes it when the man seems proud of me outside the bedroom? I’m no psychologist, obviously, but the daddy issues are practically slapping me in the face at this point.”
“Do you think you have daddy issues?” she asks, not sounding as shocked as I thought she would.
She just sounds curious, which gives me the confidence to say, “I don’t know. I didn’t think so, but…maybe? I honestly can’t remember my dad ever looking at me like that, Elaina. I mean, he’s said he was proud of me before. Like when I graduated with honors, but I’ve never felt it. I’ve never looked into my dad’s eyes and known that he thought I stuck the landing, you know?”
“Well, I don’t want to overstep, but…”
“Go ahead,” I urge after a moment. “We’ve been friends too long for you to hold back.”
“Yes, we’ve been friends for a long time,” she agrees. “But in all that time, you’ve maybe said…five sentences about your dad, Syd. I know more about your mom, and she’s been gone since you were a kid. I have no idea what the story is with you and your father, but it might be worth a discussion with a professional.”
I sigh. “That’s what my last therapist said, but I thought I’d worked through all of that. I don’t tie myself in knots to please him anymore.”
“Says the woman who’s working at her father’s company because he told her that’s what she would be doing after college, even though she wanted to look for a different job. Or stay on the bog with the butterflies…”
My stomach cramp intensifies. “Yes, but I’m not living with him. I said no to moving back home and to having lunch with him every day. And I wear pants to work on Fridays. Even though I know Dad wants women to ‘look like women’ in the office.”
Eliana makes a gagging sound. “Oh my God. I think I want to punch your dad in the face. No offense. But wanting ‘women to look like women?’ What does that even mean? I’m a woman, no matter what I’m wearing. What century does he think he’s living in?”
I shake my head, feeling more confused than before I placed this call. “He means well, and he’s one of the most generous people I’ve ever met. He’s just old-fashioned.”