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)
My flesh heats because I think maybe he’s referring to me being the hidden gem. That I’m pretty cool. Or I could be feeling super vulnerable and reading into it. Ugh.
“Today was a success.”
He nods. “It’ll be even better once we get back to my place.”
Heat coils in the pit of my stomach. I’m definitely reading into everything he says. Why, of all people, does it have to be with Two?
“I don’t like to lose,” Two says, darting his gaze to the table. “That’s why I bolted after the pool game. Plus, your friend didn’t like me.”
“She’s family. And it was just a game, Two. You win some, you lose some.”
“But I don’t like losing to you,” he grits out. “It fucking sucks.”
I recoil at his words. “Oh.”
His panicked eyes land back on mine and he curses under his breath. “Sorry. I’m being dramatic. Supposedly it’s my thing.”
“I’m feeling a bit dramatic too today,” I admit with a shrug. “Can we just be dramatic together and know neither of us is going to leave the other in the literal dust? We’re partners. I like that I can let my guard down with you.”
He softens as he reaches over to touch my hand. “More dust.”
There was no dust. He just wanted an excuse to touch me.
Another shiver dances down my spine.
“I’m glad you’re my partner for this,” he murmurs, thumb gently rubbing at the pretend dust on my hand. “No one else is as serious as we are.”
“I’m an achiever, remember? I like to accomplish my goals and be the best. Even if I feel like a total fraud the entire time.”
He studies me for a long beat. “Is it hard being perfect all the time?”
I don’t fake a smile or spin a lie to make him think better of me. I give him the truth. “So hard. This morning, you almost saw the breakdown. Sometimes, when it’s all too much, I just come crashing down. It takes a few days to pick myself up and put all my armor back on.”
“Sounds heavy.”
“It is.”
“Leave your armor at home, Golden.”
Tears well, but I don’t let them fall. “Okay.”
The woman who owns the place—Cara—delivers our delicious food a little while later and it’s only then that I realize he’s held onto my hand the entire time.
I’m not reading into this.
Two likes me whether he likes it or not.
The feeling is mutual.
Two
I think we just had a date.
Sure as fuck felt that way.
The urge to touch Gemma again is overwhelming, but thankfully, we’re done with our food. I bolt out of the booth and storm outside, not bothering to wait for her.
If I wait, I might try to touch her again.
Her skin was so soft. I want to touch her hair next.
There can’t be a next time, Two.
I burst out of the building, hightailing it to the Rover. When I see a flyer fluttering under the windshield wiper on the passenger side, I slow to a stop. Tucked in next to it is a winter aconite flower—a hearty yellow flower often seen popping up through snow.
Gemma sucks in a sharp breath of air as she stops beside me. She starts forward, but I race her over to it. Snatching the paper out before she can, I bring it to my face to read.
No one adores you like I do. Especially not him. The way he touches you is wrong. When I touch you, it’ll be more than right. It’ll be perfect. You’ll see.
Anger swells up inside me as the letter crumples in my fist. Gemma, with her soft, small fingers, pries it out of my ferocious grip. Her shoulders hunch after she reads it.
“Who the fuck is doing this?” I demand, feeling shockingly protective over her. “This is more than a super fan, Gemma. This is psychotic.”
She throws the yellow flower onto the street and stomps on it, completely distracted by the act of destroying it. “You called me Gemma.”
I grunt in frustration. “Focus. We need to go to the cops.”
“No,” she hisses, whirling around to face me, shaking her head. “It’s not a big deal. They’re just trying to scare me.”
People are starting to stare at us and this shit is none of their business.
“Get in,” I bark out as I open her car door. “Now.”
She scowls at me but obeys. Once I’ve climbed in on my side, I attempt to turn over the engine. Naturally, it doesn’t start.
“You’re downplaying this,” I growl, relieved when the engine starts on the second try. “Why?”
Gemma huffs and shrugs. “Because if my dad gets wind of this, it’s going to suck. He’ll go into overprotective mode and watch me like a hawk. I barely just got my freedom when I started college. I can’t have it taken away over some stupid person trying to scare me.”
I back out of the parking spot and gas it, making sure to watch my rearview mirror in case anyone is following us. “What if it’s more than a scare tactic? What if it’s a warning? A fucking promise. I don’t like this.”