Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 141281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
For a second, I smile at the absurdity, imagining working up the nerve to ask Chris to come with me. But then my smile melts away.
If I asked, I already know what he’d do.
He’d laugh in my face like any sane man should.
* * *
Words are hard.
I spend the next few days dragging through my thesis, only taking breaks for fresh air and coffee. A few times, I sit down to slash a few more layers of black and grey across my new, super moody stormy sea landscape.
It fits my mood perfectly since I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sunny desert piece.
I’m no happy camper and I hate myself a little more every time I remember why.
I’m also ready to pick up my laptop and hurl it out the window.
Anything to break this funk, this frustration the king of assholery in the room next door casts over my best laid plans for this paper.
The entire week passes in a blur.
I only pop out of the house for drinks with Marnie and a couple of her friends.
Of course she gives me more crap about the pact that will be the death of me.
Of course I don’t breathe a single word about what happened with Chris that night after she slipped away with Tangerine Man.
She reminds me I’d better come home rocking the ex-virgin anthem or else.
By Thursday, I start panic searching for backup ideas because this military profile paper isn’t going anywhere without Mr. Tall, Dark, and Ridiculous to give me inspiration.
What about the new tech startups?
Silicon Valley is crawling with semi-crazy, highly interesting people intent on creating the next cutting edge Web 3.0 app thing or revolutionary new crypto-based whatsits.
For about a day, I think I can schmooze my way into some tech mogul’s lair for an exclusive interview or two. But then I hear another girl in my class, Georgette, is already on it.
She’s got an uncle in venture capital who can get her a meeting with anyone whose name rhymes with tusk.
Damn.
All I’ve got is this flimsy civilian soldier thing I can’t stop going in circles with.
I don’t know why I’m still plowing through hours of articles and videos and books about other guys who just can’t hang up their swords when their enlistment ends—especially when Chris’ room is empty all day—a cruel reminder that our love-hate thing ended just as quickly as it started.
If he drags himself back home before some ghastly hour, he’s silent as a panther. I never hear him.
The loneliness next door taunts me, a cruel reminder of how stupid I was to play truth or dare, and how much I messed up trying to pet a human cactus.
But is he right?
I was getting too attached, no question.
Even now, I can’t stop thinking about him, ever since Marnie opened her big fat judgy mouth.
But what are friends for?
My hand floats over his contact in my phone, a few taps away from pathetically asking for a truce.
Yeah, no.
I can’t.
I won’t.
I don’t go chasing after men with major damage—however justified—much less a swinging dick so full of himself his weird moral code threw my virginity back in my face in the coldest way.
God.
That Vegas escape can’t come fast enough, even if I’ve made peace with going alone.
I start throwing together my bags that night, ready for my flight Friday morning.
I’m about to wash up and check everything over one more time when I hear two men laughing, coming up the stairs.
Are the cleaners just being loud tonight?
That’s not like them.
I stick my head out of my room and my jaw drops.
Dad and Chris are shoulder to shoulder, together, smiling at each other like they’re old drinking buddies.
What the hell is going on?
Stepping out into the hall, Dad looks up, notices me, and smiles. “There’s my girl! I’m glad you’re still awake, Cordelia, I have something I’d like to run by you...”
Chris’ eyes light up with green sorcery when he sees me.
If I’m supposed to despise him, the butterflies tickling my belly never got the message.
He stops and stares, taking me in like we haven’t seen each other for months.
I’m stumped.
His dragon green eyes make me feel...some kind of way I can’t put into words. Or maybe I just don’t want to.
He makes me feel too many things.
“What? What’s going on?” I whisper, bracing myself for another bizarre gut punch.
“Chris has the week off from work and he’s looking for a reset. You told me your friend Marnie couldn’t make it to Las Vegas, so I thought perhaps he should tag along and keep you out of trouble.” Dad slaps Chris on the shoulder with a smile that has me stunned.
The world crumbles under me.
Gutted is an understatement.
I shoot the asshat a sharp look, my eyes turning into slits as I cock my head.
“Time off. Huh. I thought you had a lot to do with your early mornings and all?” I’m giving him crap, and he knows it. “I mean, you’re sure you really want to waste a week hanging out with your bratty stepsister?”