Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
“Talk to me, babe. You look a little lost, but I can’t imagine you didn’t know this was between us.”
“That night at Ted’s, you specifically told Rita we weren’t on a date.”
His brow furrows. “Yeah.”
“The way you dismissed even the idea of it so quickly made me think you weren’t interested at all.”
He’s shaking his head before I’m finished speaking. “I was always interested, Ashley. I said it wasn’t a date, because it was clear Rita was gunning for you. I hoped if I played it cool, she’d put her fuckin’ claws away. I should’ve said something to you immediately after I got her to leave, but I wasn’t thinking clearly at all. I was so pissed I had to spend almost ten minutes outside cooling down before I could come back in, and even that wasn’t enough.”
“So you weren’t out there talking to her the entire time?”
“Hell no,” he answers emphatically. “She didn’t even try to draw it out or start a fight. I guided her out of the bar and out onto the street, where she laughed in my face and told me that since I was putting an end to her night before it began, I’d have to pay Meghan for the wings and beer she’d ordered before she saw me. When I told her I didn’t give a fuck and would gladly pay not to have her around, she smiled like the fucking Joker and left. She didn’t need to stay, because she knew she’d fucked my night up, and that was all she really cared about.”
That’s Rita though. She likes dropping bombs more than she enjoys watching them detonate. She’s been like that forever too. Her high comes from the moment of impact. The carnage and destruction that happens in the aftermath never holds her attention for long, because she’s always looking for the next thing.
Still, she gets that ammunition from somewhere. Either she finds your weakness or she creates one. Once he saw behind the façade, Tyler might not have felt like dealing with her, but no matter what he says, he still had sex with her, which means he was attracted to her.
“I can tell by looking at you that whatever is going on inside your head isn’t good,” Tyler says.
I spread my hands. “It’s not that it’s not good,” I murmur. “It’s that… I….”
Reaching out, he takes my hand into his. I can’t help that the instant he touches me my nipples stiffen.
“From now on, no secrets,” he says. As he speaks, he shifts closer to me. When our knees touch, I short circuit. Thinking. Thoughts. I have some. Dammit, what are they?
Oh yeah.
“Rita’s a rail,” I blurt.
I sound like an idiot, so I’m not even a little surprised that he’s looking at me like he’s confused.
“She’s a what now?”
“A rail. It means skinny. She probably lives on popcorn, lettuce, and water. I’m nothing like her,” I babble. “I have curves, bumps, and ridges. She’s sleek lines, and I’m—”
“Are you for real right now?” he interrupts.
Awesome. I let my nutty out, and now Tyler knows I’m an idiot. Way to go, Ashley.
“I’m trying to make a point,” I answer, a touch defensively.
“For starters, your point is bullshit. You have this all fucked up in your head, babe. You want me to tell you what the reality is?”
“Um, not real—”
“Doesn’t matter, I’m telling you anyway. Rita’s like a base model car. The flashy paint job makes it look good, but once you pop the hood and look at the specs, you realize it’s a four-cylinder tin can with no pickup and shitty resale value. You’re like the car in the showroom that everyone covets. Rita’s an economy ride. But you? Well, you’re the top of the line.”
My heart flutters in my chest before settling into a rhythm that feels too fast. It’s a combination of things that get me—the expression on his face, the heated look in his eyes, his words. I mean, it isn’t like being compared to a car is the most romantic thing in the world, but from Tyler, it somehow works. I blink like an idiot as I lick my lips and try to focus. Words. I have to say something.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me for telling you the truth. How a woman who looks like you, rocks a body the way you do, and stays sweet the way you have is beyond me. You’re the shit, and you don’t even know it.”
A woman who looks like me and rocks a body the way I do. Wow. Wow. No man has ever said anything like this to me, ever.
“Do you feel what’s between us?” he asks.
I don’t hesitate, because the answer in my head is so loud there’s no avoiding it or pretending that it’s otherwise.
“I do.”
“Thank fuck you admit it.”