Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76693 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76693 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
So why did I just tell Two about it?
“Nail art?” His eyebrow arches high.
“Yes,” I tell him with a smirk as I grab my phone. “This isn’t easy. It’s intricate and takes a lot of time. You of all people should get that.”
He takes my phone from my hand when I thrust it in his face and starts scrolling through the photo album. “You did all of these?”
“Yup.”
“Interesting.” He lifts his gaze for a moment, locking his intense eyes on mine. “What do your followers think of this?”
“They don’t know about it,” I mumble. “It’s my thing.”
“I share my thing with anyone who will listen to me about it,” he challenges. “Why don’t you show your zillion followers what you can do? It’s actually pretty good.”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Because I’m not great at it. What if they think it’s stupid? What if they start expecting me to share about nail art all the time? Worse, what if they hate it and yell at me to share more makeup and hair stuff?”
“You really do worry about what others think. Just like the Enneagram website says.”
Oh great, we’re back to this.
“I guess I do.” I shrug my shoulders and sigh. “That’s dumb, right?”
“You said it, not me.” His grin is back. “Maybe I’ll let you do something on the replica since you’ve clearly got skills.”
I gape at him in mock surprise. “Ooh, I get to help on our project? You’re so generous, Two.”
He simply laughs, which makes my heart stutter a bit. Tonight feels like we’ve made progress. I actually had fun, too. Maybe this class won’t be so bad after all.
Two
She makes it difficult to hate her.
Having her in my space last night and showing her Cedarwood was…nice. Even Dax doesn’t have the patience to sit and listen to my ramblings. Gemma, to her credit, took everything in that I said and then asked questions that proved she was interested.
Of course the first girl to not think me and my hobbies were freakish would be my mortal enemy.
You’re being dramatic again, Two.
I try to ignore the warring thoughts in my mind. On one hand, I want to ignore her and pretend she doesn’t exist. Each night since I met her in the flesh, I’ve lain awake in bed, thinking about that picture with her name on the wall. It hurts being around her. Knowing her. Talking to her.
On the other hand, she’s clever, quick-witted, and clearly talented. I like that she puts up with my bullshit and keeps squaring off with me, no matter how much of a dick I am. It means she’s a worthy adversary. A challenge.
This morning, in class, we actually talked about our project and there was no animosity. Afterward, she even waved and said she’d call me later. My chest tightened and my dick perked.
Finding her attractive is my biggest problem right now.
I just can’t go there with her.
“So sorry I’m late,” Tate cries out as he hops out of his Jeep. “They were out of butterscotch flavoring. I was so upset that they allowed that to happen!”
“You got me something else?”
He nods as he hands me a coffee. “Not butterscotch, but it’s buttered caramel. Probably as close as they could get. I took a sip and it’s tasty. If you don’t want it, I’ll drink it too.”
The man is already buzzing on caffeine. The last thing he needs is an extra helping. Nah, I’ll take one for the team, even if it’s nasty as fuck.
Luckily, I sip it and actually like it.
“It’ll do, donkey.”
Tate sniggers, clearly getting my Shrek reference, and leads the way to his office. Once inside, we do our thing—him setting all his crap down on his desk and me getting the fireplace going. Finally, a few minutes later, we sit down by the fire to chat and enjoy our coffees.
“Update on Golden,” I say, not meeting his stare. “She’s kind of cool.”
Tate chuckles and leans forward, eyebrows lifted in a way that shows he’s delighted about this revelation. “Do tell. I want the tea.”
A smile tugs at my lips and I shrug, hoping I can make it go away. “We went to our project site. Spent a lot of time there. Got kicked out. I took her back to my place and—”
Tate gasps, covering his mouth. “You what? Tell me!”
“Not that,” I say with a chuffed laugh. “We ate dinner and I showed her Cedarwood Mansion. She liked it.”
“It sounds like you’re taking the time to get to know her. I’m proud of you, Two.”
“I don’t know.” I sip my coffee and stare at the fireplace, drifting back to last night. I’d stolen glances of her as she marveled over my model. She really is pretty. “She could just be fucking with me.”
Tate’s lips press together and he sets his coffee down. “Why would she be doing that? What would her motive be?”