Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 119184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“What do you want, anyway?” I throw myself back in front of my laptop at the marble island.
“Oh, nothing. I just thought we could talk, y’know? We didn’t get much chance after that stupid dog ruined our last date.”
Stupid dog.
I grit my teeth.
“What do you have to say?” I can’t hide the scorn dripping from my voice.
“I dunno.” She shrugs. “Like, talk-talk, Brady. What’s going on in our lives? What’s up with you?” She throws herself down, resting her elbows on the island and leaning forward so she flashes her cleavage.
It’s so transparently ridiculous I almost laugh in her face.
“Don’t have much going on right now, Nance. Just work. The usual.”
“Oh?” She doesn’t sound like she cares. There’s a long pause, and I realize she’s waiting for me to ask about her.
“What are you up to lately?”
“I’m so glad you asked!” Her smile widens. “You remember I told you about Tahiti?”
“Tahiti,” I repeat. It’s vaguely familiar, though I can’t remember any details. “You’re going to French Polynesia?”
“Dude, do you ever stop working long enough to pay attention? Never mind, I’ll forgive you this once.” She rolls her eyes, wagging a finger. “Anyway, remember how I said I was going for a shoot?”
“Sure.” I don’t remember shit.
“It’s gonna be more of a work-and-pleasure thing, and it’s coming up in two weeks!” Her eyes flick up suggestively. “Such a fun opportunity. Prettiest water on the planet. You can post stuff from there without any people and still get ten thousand likes on Insta.”
“Yeah. I get why you’re pumped,” I lie.
“It’s a gorgeous hotel, all expenses paid. You know the five-star resorts where they pamper you all day long?”
“Yep.” Been there, done that. Luxury overload gets old fast.
“But there’s one little problem.” She pushes out her lip in an exaggerated pout. “It’s lonely. Wouldn’t it be so nice to have someone with?”
Obviously, I know what she’s trying to do—I’d have to be blind to miss it—but no.
No fucking way.
There is no way I’m flying out there willingly for some kind of pre-proposal BS trip where she’ll probably be expecting a ring. Even if all expenses are paid.
I can afford to pay for my own luxury travel, and when I do, it won’t be some sparkling hotel rising from Pacific paradise like a fairy-tale castle.
I open an email from the lab I’m working with and say bluntly, “Maybe you should ask one of your friends.”
“They’re busy,” she rushes out. “Don’t you think it would better if—”
“That’s a shame,” I cut her off. “Hopefully you’ll have a fun time solo.”
“Brady! It would be so much better with my boyfriend.”
My face hurts from the effort it takes not to wince.
Goddamn, she’s relentless.
Silence is my answer. I hope it pisses her off enough to take the hint and walk away, but that feels too easy.
“I was hoping,” she says, layering so much emphasis on the word I almost cringe, “that you’d come with me.”
There it is.
Shot between the eyes.
I hoped she wouldn’t outright ask, when I’m clearly not interested, but now that she has, this won’t end well.
“You know I have work, Nance. Critical phase with the lab working on the formula.” I gesture at my screen. “They’re almost ready with some new test samples. I have to be around to see how that goes.”
Almost immediately, her eyes glaze over. The second I mention details, she switches off.
“You always have work,” she says bitterly.
“All part of the process. Nobody ever said start-ups are easy.” I stare at her, wondering why I bother to take the edge off. “It won’t always be like this. Once we’re in the pilot phase, I might be able to take my foot off the gas a little before the full launch. But that’s a year out at least.”
“A whole year,” she echoes miserably. “All for fucking dog food.”
“Scientifically formulated, ethically sourced, organic, and affordable for the masses, thank you.” I flash her an exaggerated smile, beaming it through the knives etched on her face.
Work is an excuse to get out of a trip to hell, but it’s also true.
“What did I do to you?” she asks sharply.
“What?”
“We’ve known each other since we were kids. So why am I not enough for you?” She darts up and stalks closer, rounding the island until she’s next to me. “Why haven’t you ever tried to kiss me? Touch me? You know you could have it all . . .”
Fuck.
Her eyes are hard and sharp. This isn’t hurt speaking but entitlement.
She’s always been gorgeous, yeah, but there’s something pointed and weaponized about her beauty now. Get too close, and you’ll eviscerate yourself on those curves.
“Are you still fucking a new girl every week? I know your history,” she whispers, too close to my ear now. “It’s not like you don’t have needs. And I’m cool with your appetite, it’s all part of the package, I get it. I’m not asking you to be exclusive. Not yet. So . . . why haven’t we fucked?”