Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
“I get that. Totally.”
I pop the lever on the side of the recliner. My legs rise and my back reclines just enough to feel moderately relaxed. I settle back and feel myself melt into the chair.
“You know,” I say, rolling my head to the side so I can see Val. “If Kirk wasn’t sixty-five and married to the best woman ever, I might just marry him.”
Val coughs, choking on a chip. She pulls a water bottle from between the couch cushions and takes a long drink.
“Sometimes I think you’re basically my child,” I say, laughing. “Did you really have that drink wedged in my sofa?”
“Don’t mom me. I was trying to keep it upright so it didn’t leak out everywhere.”
“You do realize that you’re almost thirty.”
“Rude.” She makes a face and eats another chip. “Kirk is pretty handsome, though. The salt-and-pepper hair really does it for me.”
I chuckle.
Val picks up her phone again. Immediately, she’s engrossed. She licks the salt from the chips off her bottom lip slowly as she brings the screen closer to her eyes.
“What are you looking at over there?” I ask, curiosity piqued.
“Cole’s feed. It was still pulled up.”
I groan.
Val lays her phone in her lap and cocks her head to the side. “Okay, real talk.”
“What?”
“I’ve been approaching this Cole thing with you as if you’re just embarrassed by the attention or having a hard time believing that it’s real. Or you’re just flustered because he is a flustery kind of guy.”
I laugh. He is a flustery kind of guy. I wish it were only that. “I saw him today when I picked up Ethan.”
“Really? You’ve been holding on to that little nugget for hours. Totally unfair.”
“Very funny.”
“And?” She motions in front of her, prompting me to divulge whatever secret she thinks that I’m withholding. “What happened? Did sparks fly? Did you realize that you need to take a swing with his big, hard bat?”
“Will you stop it?” I giggle. “You’re . . .”
“Right on the money?”
I roll my eyes. Kind of. “Hardly.”
“You’re the worst best friend in all the lands.”
I snort. “Fine. He asked me out again, and I turned him down again.”
“What?”
“I know. He even said Ethan could come.”
She moves around on the couch until her legs are tucked up beneath her. “No. Not that. I was what-ing the part where you said that you told him no.”
Val is never going to understand my perspective.
“Okay. I’m starting to think that you’re serious. And if you are and you’re not into him for whatever reason—maybe you’re just not into blue eyes the color of gemstones, and that’s okay—then I want to respect that.” She lifts her chin. “See? I’m capable of empathy.”
My chest shakes as I chuckle at her ridiculousness.
The corner of her mouth twitches. “So, are you going to screw him or not?”
“Val!”
“What? It’s just a question. I’m just trying to help you live. You’re tired of the same old decisions and results, right?”
This is technically true. But it doesn’t mean that her suggested choice is the right one, because it’s ultimately not.
“Pardon me for stating the obvious,” she says, “but I’m pretty sure that sexy baseball player could take you to third base, if you get what I’m saying. Use him to get on base, and then let someone else hit you home.”
I laugh. “Stop with the baseball analogies.”
“I’ve been looking them up. This is fun!”
I act like she’s ridiculous because she is. But I also get what she’s saying.
Therein lies the problem.
At least I know my weaknesses—in this case, giving other people the benefit of the doubt. I have the wherewithal to double-check myself before I wreck myself this time, thank God.
I can easily see myself having dinner with him, laughing, having fun. It would be a great distraction from work and Burt and dealing with Jared and the overall crisis of my life. Opening that door with Cole would be like handing the steering wheel over to him for a while. I can’t say the break from the chaos wouldn’t be appreciated. But I also can’t say it wouldn’t just be digging the hole deeper for me to climb out of later.
The truth is, Cole is a nice guy. I’m sure he would be a good time. Even stranger is the fact that I think he would be good with Ethan, and that’s much harder to find than it should be.
Cole is a Milky Way that you zap in the microwave and let get all melty and gooey. And then, when you eat it, it gets all over your face and fingers, and you wind up in a blissful sugar coma. It feels wonderful at the moment, but you have to work those calories off later—that or live with the added weight, which is what I usually do.
And I’m tired of doing that. I just want the salad.