Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 76402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Mine the voice called again, selfishly steering her away from them while staying in the party, in the line of sight of her protective brother.
No one would accuse me of being chatty, but I tried, threw out conversation starters, attempted to get to know her. She was open with stories about her brothers and her when they were young. But when I tried to get information about her over the past few years, she got ramrod straight, her eyes evaded contact, her words went from effortless to careful, calculated, awkward.
And then the words blurted out of her, an explosion of repression and uncertainty, and maybe even a twinge of fear.
Have you ever been to prison?
I didn't have to ask to know.
Not with her skittering gaze, her anxious tugging at her shirt, her hair, the hoops at her ears.
Freddie, the woman who I had thought of as a goody-goody not too long before, had been to prison. Not jail. Not some county stint while she waited for a court date where she would get out on time served.
No.
She went away.
Away away.
And, from the evasiveness of her answers, I imagined for a long while.
Her teeth sank into her lower lip, uncomfortable, waiting for my answer.
"Jail, yes. Prison? No. You?"
"Prison, yes," she answered in a choked voice, not even a hint of air in it.
"Am I supposed to look at you differently now?" I asked, watching as her eyes snuck a look from under their lashes. "You did time. So what? I once cracked a tire iron across a man's face. Done anything like that?"
"No."
"Then why would I think differently about you?"
"Yo, boo, you good?" Thad's voice called from behind me, making her head shoot up. "Tugging at her earrings. That's her stress thing," he added, moving toward my side, looking down at me with what could only be called accusing eyes.
"I'm fine," Freddie insisted, giving him a wobbly smile.
Thad's eyes narrowed, reading her like only a sibling could do. "Right. But you have to get some beauty rest so your fine ass can start bringing home the bacon tomorrow. So we best be going, yeah?" he asked, extending his hand down toward her.
She paused.
Her eyes lifted, looking at me, trying to read me.
Her hand eventually rested in her brother's.
But she paused.
Like she didn't want to go.
Like she would rather stay here. With me. Talk. Maybe do something more.
"Thanks for having us," she said as she was pulled onto her feet, giving me a smile. "It was nice to get out and celebrate a little."
"I'll be seeing you around, Freddie," I told her, getting to my feet too.
"I don't really get out too--"
"I'll be seeing you around, baby girl," I cut her off, watching as her lips parted, her eyes went hooded.
Oh, yeah.
I wasn't the only one who was having some feelings.
And hers could be ignited with a solid pet name. I was storing that information away for later.
"Oh, yes you sure will," Thad murmured under his breath.
"Let me walk you out," I offered, leading them through the crowd, out into the cooler night air. "Nice seeing you, Freddie. Thad."
"Not like you not to close," Sugar's voice called from behind me, jeering, amused at the idea of me being stuck with just my hand when I clearly wanted her.
He was right.
It wasn't like me not to close.
Not when we were both clearly interested.
"You running a long game?" he asked as I turned back, finding him leaning against the clubhouse, looking off at the town.
"I don't even know what the fuck a long game is," I admitted. If there was one person who knew me perhaps as well as I knew myself, it was Sugar. There was no shame in admitting that I was clearly on uneven footing with Freddie - a woman I just met. A woman who I had barely spent enough time with to get to know even a little bit. Everything should have been about the attraction, about getting her into bed, satisfying the desire we both felt toward one another.
I hadn't even tried.
It wasn't like me.
"You like her."
"I don't know her well enough to like her."
"Met her for two minutes and I like her," West declared from the doorway, shamelessly eavesdropping. And, for some reason, neither of us told him to get lost.
"Liked Peyton by the end of our drive in her hearse back to town. Not saying you're in love with the woman. I'm saying she's piqued your interest. In more than a 'I want to get up in that' way. So what? Get to know her."
"Not like I can bounce into her. She works at Abby's now. And then likely just goes home after."
"Well, if it helps. Her brother and her are having a spa day at Kennedy's next Saturday when he doesn't have a class to teach," West supplied.