Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 143633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 718(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 718(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
Maybe I could arrange some time away, for all four of us. I’d talk to Rosie about it.
Dinner was a delight. The drink flowed and the steaks were devoured, and Peter smiled proudly as I told Lola what a fantastic chef’s assistant he’d been.
“I’ll be remembering that,” she giggled, gesturing at him with her wine glass. “You’ve made a rod for your own back, now. You can be peeling potatoes in the kitchen with me.”
Somehow I doubted it would be a rod for his own back he’d be making. I could already see the hunger he had in his eyes for the little minx sitting opposite him. His sexuality was definitely a beast, enlivened by the whisky, as was mine. Rosie was shooting me glances of her own, and it was clear that the girls had been talking dirtily about us while we’d been busy in the kitchen. The sexual tension was intense. I knew the question was coming from Rosie before she even spoke.
“Can Lola read some of your chapters, Julian? She’d really like to.”
“Yeah, I would. Please,” Lola chimed in. “I love that kind of thing.”
“Filthy erotica, you mean?” I said, with a smirk. “My chapters are very hardcore. I’m sure you know that already, though.”
“Yeah, I do.” She laughed. “It’s why I want to read it even more.”
Peter nudged my elbow. “Let her read a load of it, please. I’ll get the benefits back home later.”
I still felt slightly strange about the idea as I sipped at my whisky. Letting Lola read my writing would feel as though I was being exposed, somehow. Not from the content per se, but from the exposure of my emotional and creative process.
“Go on, Julian,” Rosie pushed. “Say yes!”
Her wine drunk eyes were so imploring. Her voice so sweet.
“How could I ever refuse you anything?” I said, then looked at Lola. “Yes, you can read some of my chapters. I’d be honoured.”
That sealed the deal. As soon as we’d finished up the apple and blackberry crumble I’d made for dessert, I cleared the table with Peter’s help and set up my laptop for Lola. My nerves were uncharacteristically thrumming as she devoured the pages with Rosie alongside her, as though I was awaiting a jury verdict.
One word said it all, when she was done with the very first scene.
“Wow!”
“You enjoyed it?” I asked her, and her nod spoke volumes.
“Enjoyed it?! It’s fucking amazing.” She clapped her hands together. “More, please! I know you’ve got loads of them.”
“Alright,” I said, and called up the next.
Peter and I sat on the chesterfield as the girls read and chatted. I got so many thumbs up and mini rounds of applause, that I became heady on both whisky and satisfaction. I could have played it down as nothing more than two friends having fun and reading hot sex between them, but Lola’s comments and praise were based around more than that – just as Rosie’s were. The pair of them would quote lines that stood out in particular, admiring my prose. They commented on everything from pace, to characterisation, to tension and tiny details. All of which meant a lot.
It seemed that teaching others had most certainly had an impact on my own strengths as a writer. What a welcome benefit.
Before we knew it, the early hours were upon us. The girls were into the realms of giggling drunks, which was deliciously uplifting, and Peter and I had consumed almost a whole bottle of Scotch between us.
“Time to go,” Peter said, finally, and Lola didn’t argue as he called a taxi.
She gave Rosie a huge hug when it was due to pull up outside.
“That was amazing, thanks. See you on Monday.”
Their hug lasted for ages, both of them swaying and clutching each other tight. Rosie virtually leapt into Peter’s arms to say goodbye, as Lola leapt into mine, without hesitation. I looked at Rosie’s arms around Peter’s neck, squeezing in the way I knew. Her eyes were sparkling as she thanked him for coming, and he was still beaming as he gave me a slap on the back and shook my hand.
“Was ace, Julian, thanks so much.”
“See you soon!” Rosie said, as she waved them off from the front door.
The neighbours would be despising me even more after this week. Drunk guests leaving, and a hundred heavy deliveries coming up the stairs. In my drunken state, I found it humorous.
Rosie’s arms were ready for my neck next. I lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around my waist, holding on to me like a koala bear as I walked us through to the kitchen for another drink.
“You’re amazing,” she said with a giggle and a slur.
“And you’re drunk.”
“Yeah. I like it.”
“Like being trashed on wine?”
She looked at me with a beautiful humour as she nodded.