Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“What about my hair?” I asked curiously.
“You have two hours,” she said. “Go wash off the day. Put some of that shit in your hair that you leave in when you leave it curly and let it dry. Easy peasy. If he wants the real Ares, give her to him.”
If he wants the real Ares, give her to him.
I liked the way that sounded.
Too many times, on too many dates, I’d tried to be who I wasn’t.
Maybe Calloway was right. Maybe it was time to be who I was.
So that was exactly what I did.
“Thanks, Way,” I said softly. “Love you.”
Calloway giggled. “Let me know if you feel the same way after tonight. Call me the instant that you get home.”
After promising to do just that, I went ahead and took my shower.
After shaving every single inch of my body sans my arms and my face, I got out and got dressed in my sweatpants. I also put on a tight black tank top to go with the sweatpants.
The last thing to go on was a pair of tennis shoes.
After spending the majority of my day in heels, there was nothing I wanted more than to wear something comfortable on my feet. So tennis shoes it was.
Then I tackled the beast that was my hair.
By the time I was done, I had a little more than an hour to wait.
Which was, of course, when I fell asleep.
***
I woke up to pounding.
Frowning, I pushed up off my bed and walked blearily to the front door, shuffling my way there with unsteady steps.
Yanking open the door, I blinked in surprise at the pissed off face that was on the other side.
His face went from pissed off to blank in a matter of seconds.
“Were you sleeping?” he asked.
I blinked innocently at him.
“Of course not,” I lied.
How would he know?
I looked at my watch.
It wasn’t even six yet.
He was early.
His smile was swift. There one second and gone the next.
“You ready?” he asked, taking a step forward so that he was close, but not too close.
More like, I couldn’t close the door in his face if I wanted to.
I nodded. “I just have to grab my purse.”
He looked down at my sweats. “Those are cute.”
I looked down at myself, then looked over at him.
And nearly choked.
He was indeed wearing sweatpants.
He also filled out those sweatpants like nobody’s business.
“Ummm,” I hesitated. “Yeah.”
They were simple black sweatpants from Old Navy.
I’d bought them last year on sale for four dollars at the winter clearance event they did every year.
Which I told him in the next second. Blurting it all out because the man’s gaze on me made me incredibly nervous.
“That’s nice,” he said. “I just buy what I want and don’t really pay attention to the price.”
I blinked. “That sounds like rich people problems.”
He grunted out a laugh just as lightning lit up the sky behind his big shoulders.
Seconds after that, thunder took over.
“Let’s get going before the rain starts,” he ordered, gesturing for me to follow.
I held up a finger.
“Hold on,” I said. “I really have to pee, and I have to find my bag. And my phone. I think my phone’s on my bed.”
“I’ll get your phone. You go to the bathroom.” He paused. “You don’t need your bag.”
I didn’t bother to argue with him, instead leading him inside.
“My room’s that way.” I stated the obvious.
I lived in a one-bedroom apartment. The kitchen and the living room were all one big, open floor plan. The bedroom was off of the kitchen and the bathroom was off of the living room.
There wasn’t much to it at all, and a toddler could figure out where the bedroom was.
“Sorry for the mess,” I said as I made my way to the bathroom. “I meant to pick up a little but…”
I trailed off, causing him to laugh.
“But you fell asleep,” he teased.
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
I closed the door on his quiet chuckle, hurrying through the bathroom routine before washing my hands and staring at my face in the mirror.
I only sighed at what I saw.
I had pillow marks on my face from where I’d fallen asleep, and I’d forgotten to put on makeup.
Oh, and my hair was a fucking mess.
I started to fluff it out with my hands, trying to make it cooperate when I damn well knew it wouldn’t, when Hayes’ deep, dark voice had me freezing.
“You look beautiful. Stop fussing. Let’s go,” he ordered.
I heard him so well that there was no way in hell he wasn’t standing right next to the door.
I gave one last longing look at my makeup bag, wishing I’d had time to at least put on some mascara, and turned away.
I hadn’t bothered with the lock, so when I opened the door, it was to find him still right there.
Though, I doubted he would’ve moved even if I’d had to unlock the door.