Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
It was shocking how easy he was to talk to, and I tried not to make the comparison to the way things used to be between Preston and me.
“It’s getting late,” I mumbled while yawning.
The lights and TV were off, and the room was dark. Greg’s hand twitched on my bare stomach, curling around my waist to hold me closer. “Mm-hmm. You should stay.”
It warmed me that he offered, but . . . “I can’t.”
We both knew I couldn’t. Besides my curfew, what if Preston came home early? I squeezed his arm to get him to release me, which he did. When I slid off the bed, he turned on a bedside lamp, and we both squinted at each other in the light.
He gazed at me while I pulled on my clothes, surveying me from the bed like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and I went all wobbly.
“I’m not on-call next weekend, and Preston’s heading to North Carolina on Thursday.”
I’d forgotten about Preston’s upcoming visit to his mom’s for two weeks. It’d certainly make it easier to see Greg again, but exactly what was he suggesting? My hands slowed as I pushed my head into my shirt.
His voice was light. “In case you wanted to get cracking on the list of new classic movies you need to watch.”
God, his smile was gorgeous. How could I say no? I hoped my smile back matched his. “Sure. I’d like that.”
It was nearly one in the morning when I left his bed. I had to hurry to make it home before curfew. My mom was pretty lax about stuff—I could have texted her if I needed an extension, but it was already so late, and what kind of excuse would I give?
“Sorry, Mom. I’m hanging out in Dr. Lowe’s bed and he just banged my brains out.”
Yeah, that’d go over just great.
Lilith glanced around the bar area of the restaurant, then stared at me over the top of her half-empty pint of beer. “So . . . you’re like, what? Dating Dr. Daddy now?”
“Uh, no. I don’t think—” I couldn’t ‘date’ Greg. First of all, where would we go? Nashville was a big city, but the suburb we lived in had a small-town feel. He ran into patients often whenever he and Preston went anywhere. “Honestly, I have no idea what we’re doing.”
“Other than boning each other.”
I gave her a plain look, not rewarding her amusement. “Right. Just boning each other.”
She took a long sip of her drink and chuckled to herself as she set it down on the tabletop. “I swear, Cassidy, this thing keeps getting better every time we talk. I can’t wait until you’re telling me you’re going to be Preston’s new stepmom.”
My eyes went as wide as possible. “Oh my God, stop.”
Lilith pushed a section of her brown hair back over her shoulder and leaned in to get close. “I’m teasing. But, seriously, dude. He’s hot and a doctor. Well done, you. You need to teach me your ways.”
Me, teach her? Lilith was the sexually confident woman I wanted to be. “Yeah, right. And how many guys have I been with, again?”
“You mean, outside of the Lowe family?” She grinned.
“Ouch. That was savage.”
“I know, I’m sorry. Couldn’t resist.” She propped her elbows on the round table and rested her chin on her hands. “Your number doesn’t matter, because it’s not a contest. Guys can fuck a bunch of different women and still be clueless about sex.” She lifted her eyebrows. “Believe me.”
“Well, Greg is—uh—not clueless.”
Her smile was wide and genuine. “Glad to hear it. You deserve a good dose of vitamin D.”
I laughed and shook my head. Her unabashed attitude still caught me off guard.
The crowd in the bar ignored us, and I’d forgotten they were there until a cheer went up over a baseball game on the televisions covering the back wall.
“Hey, you know who else is hot and probably gives good vitamin D?” Lilith said loudly, just as the hubbub died. “Clay Crandall.”
The name didn’t ring any bells. “And he is?”
“My new neighbor. I saw him moving in last week, and he’s gorgeous. I went over to welcome him to the neighborhood right away—you know—because I’m friendly like that.” Her expression was devious, and I imagined her putting on her sexiest outfit before sprinting in her stilettos to his doorstep. “Not married, and no girlfriend—or boyfriend—in sight. He’s some tech guy. I think he sells software? I can’t remember. It was hard to hear over how fucking hot he was.”
“I’m sure.” My gaze dropped down to the black straw floating in my glass of Dr. Pepper. Sitting in the bar area, and my friend across from me drinking beer, intensified my feeling of being an older person trapped in a young body. Was I the only one in this restaurant who wasn’t legally allowed to drink?