Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
He thinks it over. “Pretty much. And hey, it’s worked so far.”
“Has it though? Has it really?”
“Look, I know we’re just friends and we haven’t known each other that long,” he says. “But a minute after I left here this morning, I started worrying about you, and it hasn’t really stopped.”
“You worried about me?”
“Mostly about how I’d put you in another shitty situation. I’m worried you’re going to wind up hating me.”
“Are you referring to the kiss or the thing with your ex and your mom?”
“The second one,” he says. “I thought the kiss was okay.”
“You did, huh?”
“Wait.” He narrows his gaze on me. “Did you not?”
“Let me think about that and circle back to you.”
He frowns. “Okay, well, I was worried you’d definitely had enough of the bullshit this time and wouldn’t want to go with me tonight, which would suck because I like being with you.”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“Oh. That’s nice.”
“I surprised you,” he says with a smile.
“You did. Your inner workings are frankly fascinating, dude. Bravo.”
“Thank you.” He stands tall. “Communicating with you isn’t so bad.”
“Fake couple goals.”
“We so are.”
A woman jogging by gives us a wave. Joyce drives past in a hatchback, honking her horn. Socializing out on the street on a Saturday night seems to be the thing around here.
“I appreciate you sharing all of this with me,” I say. “Trusting me with these things.”
“Sure.” He gives me a long look. And once again I have no idea what it means. But then he walks around the car and opens the passenger side door. “So, what do you say? Want to go to my high school reunion and make everybody jealous of our amazing fake relationship?”
I smile. “I would love to.”
CHAPTER TEN
Glitter-covered cutouts of octopus and fish hang from the ceiling along with streamers in every shade of blue known to humankind. There’s even a huge cardboard shipwreck in the corner of the hall. So cool. You’ve got to love an ocean aesthetic. Plenty of people are here already. Some dance beneath a mirror ball while others talk on the side.
“You’re smiling again,” says Connor.
“I had a great day.”
“Good.”
“And I have a friend who tells me I am beautiful and communicates with me.”
Seeing a big handsome man oh so subtly squirming is truly a sight to behold.
“You do what you like,” I say. “I know you probably haven’t seen some of these people in years. I’m happy to just hang.”
“Won’t people expect us to be together?”
“Just me being here sends the right message. We can make strategic appearances together over the course of the night. Don’t worry about it. Enjoy yourself. You’ve been looking forward to this, haven’t you?”
He nods.
“Are you nervous?”
“No.”
Of course not. He’s a prom king. Although he’s experienced tough things in his past, standing here now, he is free and unburdened with no fucks to give. It’s beautiful to watch. How much of our lives do we lose to worrying about what other people think?
“Tell me about your book.” He offers me his hand. Holding hands seems to be something he’s very comfortable with now. “How much have you written?”
“The first draft of chapter one is done and dusted. I also have a loose outline for where the story is going for the first half of the book, which is always helpful.”
“You don’t decide everything ahead of time?”
“No. I am a hybrid when it comes to process,” I explain. “Not quite a plotter or a pantser. There needs to be room for things to grow and change because I like room for discovery while I’m writing. But I need a rough guide so I don’t go completely off-track and take the story in the wrong direction.”
“Interesting,” he says. “Is the hero based on me?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“No.” I smile. “Of course not. Though your ego is impressive.”
The side of his mouth lifts in amusement. “Speaking of which, I just remembered, you were going to get back to me about that kiss.”
“Was I?”
“Yeah.”
I squint. “Really? I said that?”
“You did,” he says. “Though come to think of it, you were kind of in charge with that one. So, if it was bad, that would be on you, wouldn’t it?”
“Enough communicating for one day. Time for some quiet.”
Humor fills his gaze. “Tell me what makes a good hero. Are we talking Prince Charming or what?”
“The idiot who likes to go around kissing unconscious women without their consent?”
“It’s not great when you think of it that way.”
“No.”
“Come on. What’s on your list?” he asks. “What are you looking for?”
“What I want in real life and what qualities a hero in a book require are two very different things. Though, of course, there is some overlap.”
“Have I mentioned how much I enjoy it when you don’t make sense?”
“Aw,” I say. “The overwhelming amount of joy I must have brought into your life recently!”