Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
“First of all, thank you,” I say with as much grace as possible. “But I…that’s just not something I could ever see myself doing.”
“Why is that?”
“I just…” His question legitimately stumps me. I find myself flustered, searching for words, for an answer. “That’s just not anything you could ever plan for, Jason. A concert pianist? I mean…how–?”
“Life isn’t always something you can plan for, Lucy.” He interrupts me. “Take today, for instance. I normally fly private–”
“Of course you do,” I say, just teasing.
“But if my plane hadn’t been under the weather, I never would have met you.” He places his hand on my knee, his eyes still firmly connected with mine. The feeling is so intense, so consuming, as though he’s putting some kind of spell over me. I stare at him, wishing I knew what he wanted me to do – or that he would do something next and ease me of this anxiety that’s begun to flow through me.
But he doesn’t. He just looks at me, like he’s waiting for me to make the next move.
“Yeah…” The word falls from my lips, and I instantly regret it. Yeah? That’s all you could say, you big moron? He probably thinks you’re an idiot now! But the look in Jason’s eyes hasn’t changed at all. He’s still staring right at me, still waiting. And I still don’t know what to do.
Where’s the guidebook for What to Do When a Billionaire CEO Invites You Back to His House and Puts His Hand on Your Knee?
“And you never would have had your first helicopter ride,” he adds. Also true. But I don’t just want to mumble yeah yet again, and come off like I’ve lost the ability to speak. But his hand on my knee-thigh area is really doing…things to me.
I take a deep breath but try not to make it too visible, and at the same time, try not to think about the fact that I’m immensely attracted to this man, or that he is who he is. You have a boyfriend, Lucy. You have a–
“I know what you’re thinking right now,” Jason says, inching closer to me on the couch, which does nothing to help my cognitive situation.
“Y-you do?”
He nods. “First, you’re thinking about how pursuing piano would be impossible, and not just because it’s difficult and hard to plan, but because your parents would never go for it.”
“Wow,” I reply, taken aback. “You really are a mind-reader, aren’t you?”
And there comes his smile again, melting away at me, at my heart. Only this time, it’s accompanied by his hand on my thigh, which is only doubling its effect on me (at least).
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”
“And the second thing?”
Jason moves even closer – so close I can smell what must be his aftershave. It’s subtle enough that it’s not cologne but still has a pleasant, manly scent to it that I would love to be around.
“The second thing you’re thinking about right now isn’t a thing – it’s a person. And that person is Zack, your boyfriend.” He makes quotation marks in the air with his free hand, which shocks me, but also makes me laugh at the same time.
“Okay, how are you doing this? There’s something like…psychic about you or something!” But all I get in return is an even broader smile. An even more charming smile. “Seriously, Jason–”
“To be fair, the second one isn’t that hard to guess.” He indicates to his hand. He’s moved it even higher up on my thigh and I hadn’t even noticed. “It’s okay to plan things in your life, Lucy, but you can’t plan romance. You can’t plan where your heart leads you.”
“I-I’m not.” I’m stammering like a fool.
“You’re with him because your mom set you up with him. Because your parents think he’s a good match.”
“Well, I–”
“But you’re not really with him,” he says, sliding his hand farther up my thigh. “You’re just pretending because having a man that fits the narrative of your life is all part of your plan.”
His words have stopped me cold. I don’t even know what to say anymore. But my heart is racing, my blood is pulsing rapidly through my veins, and my body is hot like Jason is not a man, but a volcano that I’m seated beside who is transferring all the heat from his body to mine.
No one’s ever spoken to me this way before, not even my parents. They’re the passive-aggressive type who like to dance around the issue but make sure I know exactly what they’re talking about. On the rare occasion they do actually speak to me head-on about something, it’s because we’re discussing something that’s time sensitive.
The way Jason is going right at me about this is terrifying, but it’s also turning me on in a way I can’t even begin to describe. I’ve only known him a couple of hours, but I feel as though I’ve known him for years. He sees right through me, and I want to expose the rest of myself to him as quickly as possible. I want to show him everything.