Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 99356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
But I had to remember the plan. No more men. Men were all like Eric Fisher in some way or another. Maybe they didn’t cheat, but they let you down, eventually. Even if it was thirty years later when they were mowing the lawn in their jorts with a white and red headband on while sweat glistened through their thinning hairlines. One way or another, relationships could never live up to the hype. It just wasn’t possible, and I was tired of buying into the lie.
So I was right there with Dean. I just wished I could be in such platonically perfect agreement about this sort of thing with a different man. Maybe a man who didn’t make me immediately question my resolve to stay celibate.
I discreetly pulled out my phone and looked at his picture. There he was, standing in the elevator with his long arm held out so I could get a clear view of all six feet plus and plenty of change he was packing. His t-shirt was pulled tight over a broad, muscular chest and I could even see the outline of ab muscles pressing through the thin gray fabric if I looked close enough–yes, I zoomed the shit out of the photo and I’m not going to apologize for it.
His body alone was enough that I would’ve been a nervous mess even if he had a face like Mona Lisa–no offense to her, because I’m sure she was a great beauty for her time, but you get the point. But he had this sort of mesmerizing blend of boyish good looks with ruggedly handsome features that were all held together by a pair of absolutely dazzling blue eyes. He looked like he’d take you on a sweet, romantic date to go ice skating and then finger blast you in the equipment shed right after while whispering something dirty in your ear, like, “Yeah, you like that you little bitch, don’t you?”
For the record, if a guy ever whispered that in my ear, I’d slap him. As soon as he was finished with the hypothetical finger blasting, that is. The point was he had this kind of impossible blend of danger and comfort, almost like asking for your favorite meal from the local Indian place, but telling them to make it so spicy your asshole won’t speak to you for a week.
Marley popped into my cubicle and tilted her head, eyebrows up as she watched me wordlessly. I worked with about a dozen people regularly and things were friendly enough, but Marley was my only true work friend.
I pretended I’d been hard at work, even though my piece in progress was on my screen and definitely not far along. I turned and folded my arms. “Yes?”
“I gave you a pass yesterday,” Marley said. She had big brown hair that was thick and curly enough to stash things in. I knew this, because she regularly liked to pull objects of increasingly insane size from her hair while wiggling her eyebrows at me. So far, the biggest I’d seen was a stapler. “But now we need to talk about this.”
“I don’t want to talk about Eric,” I sighed. “You know that movie, Encanto? It’s like Bruno.”
She narrowed her eyes. “So he’s living in the walls of your house and watching you while you sleep?”
“As in, we're pretending he doesn’t exist from now on. It’s over. I sent him a text, just in case he was dumb enough to not gather as much.”
“What did you say?” She leaned in, brown eyes going wide with curiosity.
“I said our love square was over, and he could officially consider himself part of a love triangle. Except with the note ‘Em’ left him, I was assuming it was more of a love line.”
Marley smiled, almost reluctantly and shielded her eyes. “God, girl. You are such a nerd. But good for you, even if that’s the weirdest breakup text I’ve ever heard of.”
“I had a lot on my mind yesterday, okay? I wasn’t exactly thinking straight.”
“Yeah,” she said, smiling even wider. “Did your fuzzy thoughts have anything to do with that man I saw you talking to? Tall, dark, and delicious?”
“You really think I’d move on that fast?” I asked. I managed to sound offended, despite my nocturnal activities last night.
She shrugged. “I wouldn’t judge. If a guy cheats on you, then you get a fast pass back into the dating world without any questions asked.”
I made the mistake of swiping up on my phone to check a notification. I still had the image of Dean opened wide. Marley saw, gasped, and snatched the phone from me.
“Holy shit, Pearl. You dog!”
“Hey!” I whisper-yelled, reaching for the phone until I had her cornered. Marley was a softball player in college, and frustratingly strong. She basically stiff armed my forehead, holding me at bay while she took her time admiring the picture. Finally, she handed the phone back with a smug smile.