Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Normally, I can’t wait to dig into a cheeseburger from Devon’s, the best burger joint in town, but with Carter sitting beside me, I’m a nervous, jittery mess. Even though I’m starving, my appetite has vanished. By this point, I would already have devoured half of my sandwich—that’s how good it is. But right now, I don’t feel like I can choke down a single bite. Which is a shame. I stare glumly at my food wondering if I can feign a stomachache, so I can get out of here.
None of this makes sense. I’ve known Carter for years. I’ve always felt a tug of attraction when I’m around him, but it’s never been like this. This feels like being hit over the head with a sledgehammer.
And then hit again.
Stalling, I check under the bun. It’s loaded with the works, minus the onions. I can’t stand onions.
Noah rolls his eyes. “Your dislike of onions is almost pathological.”
I shrug. “To each their own.”
Again, the heavenly aroma hits me. It’s almost a relief when my appetite perks up and takes notice. This thing—whatever it is with Carter—isn’t a big deal. Given enough time, it’ll go away. I just need to be persistent in ignoring the feelings that are trying to take root. Instead of dwelling on Carter, I force him from my head and take a massive bite of meat and bun. Even though I’m not totally feeling it, I manage to plow my way through half of the sandwich.
From the corner of my eye, I watch Carter. After the other day, we’re back to giving one another a wide berth. There’s a weird expression clouding his face, but I’m not sure what to make of it. I need to stop tormenting myself with this and just ignore him.
I clear my throat and focus my attention on Ashley who has surprise-surprise, ordered a salad.
Minus the croutons.
And dressing.
My God, who wants to choke down leafy greens without either of those things? Croutons and dressing are what make salad edible.
Without them, why bother?
Unless Ashley secretly binges when no one is looking, I have no idea how she sustains herself. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen her put anything other than a vegetable in her mouth. I think we’ve just solved the riddle as to why she’s so cranky all the time.
The girl is hangry. Someone needs to force feed her a burger, fries, and milkshake.
The image of pinning Ashley to the ground and stuffing food in her piehole probably shouldn’t give me so much pleasure, but it does.
As penance for my nasty thoughts, I try to draw her out. I may not like her, but she’s Noah’s girlfriend and they’ve been going strong now for six months. My hopes of them breaking up have dwindled. “How’s your salad, Ashley?”
She’s barely made a dent in it.
Girls who don’t eat...I’ll never understand them.
When I’m hungry, I eat. Most of the time, I try to make healthy choices. The whole reason I haul my butt out of bed at seven in the morning a couple times a week to go for a three-mile run is because I enjoy mowing a burger every so often, and that is one pleasure I’m unwilling to deny myself.
Noah’s girlfriend eyes my half-demolished burger with an odd mixture of revulsion and desire as I bring it to my lips again. “It’s amazing.”
That answer seems like something of an oversell, but whatever.
She takes her time spearing a cucumber with her fork. “You’re lucky that you don’t have to watch your weight.”
Huh? What does she mean by that?
I frown. “I watch what I eat.” Mostly.
“Sure,” Noah pipes up. “You watch it right before it goes into your mouth.”
I give him a quelling look. “You’re hilarious.” Ignoring my cousin, I turn back to his girlfriend. “Life is about striking a balance and that’s what I try to do.”
Ashley chews the slice of cucumber methodically before swallowing. It’s a laborious process. “I really love that about you.”
My eyes widen.
Holy crap, did I hear her correctly? It almost sounded like she gave me a compliment. I would have never believed it if I hadn’t heard it with my own two ears. I’m tempted to ask her to repeat what she just said for the sole purpose of watching the words fall from her lips one more time.
It feels like my entire world is shifting.
First Carter and now Ashley?
Is it possible that I’ve misjudged Noah’s girlfriend?
“Wow, thanks!” It’s teasingly that I quip, “Maybe I should consider a career in modeling.” I’m joking, of course. I’m no skinny-minny. And I’m fine with that. Feeling more at ease, I take another bite of my burger.
She nods enthusiastically. “Plus-sized modeling has become increasingly more popular. If you’re interested, I could pass along my agent’s information.” She eyes me critically. “I think you would do really well with that demographic.”