Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 62695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Both are very real possibilities.
“You’re high,” he murmurs.
I shrug, lightly.
I’m not a teen, I’m not going to deny the fact that I’ve been hitting the green pipe.
Oh god.
My brain is ruined.
“And?” I say, my voice sultry.
Where did that come from?
Who is this inner sex goddess?
“You ever been fucked while you’re high?”
Please sweet Jesus, don’t let me be imagining this.
“No,” I say.
He grins, small, sexy, devilish.
He doesn’t say another word.
I want to crawl under the table, onto his lap, and devour this man like he’s my last meal.
Oh god.
I need to eat.
I need to eat right now.
I’m acting like a horny teenager.
I pick up my plate and put some pork chops, potatoes, and green salad on it. I don’t make eye contact with Enzo again as I eat, because I’m really hoping this meal will sober me up a little bit because, man, all I can think about is him taking me out of this room and fucking me into oblivion. I wouldn’t say no either, oh, no, I’d be all over that.
“Are you good?”
I glance at Faye, who has spoken to me.
I nod. “Yes, why?”
“You’re eating with your eyes closed.”
Shit, I am?
I didn’t even notice.
“It’s just so good.” I give her a sheepish grin.
She laughs. “Oh honey, you’re so high.”
“You have no idea.”
I look over at Enzo, who is eating, his eyes on me, not once moving away.
I’m still not certain that I’m actually with it and not so high I’m imagining things.
I lean toward Faye, not taking my eyes off Enzo. “Psst,” I whisper.
She leans down so her ear is closer to my mouth.
“Am I so high that I’m hallucinating the fact that Enzo is looking at me like I’m a chocolate ice cream cone that he wants to devour?”
I feel Faye turn her head to look at Enzo, then she murmurs, “You’re all the flavors judging by the look on his face.”
“I can hear you,” Enzo says, and I bolt upright.
Shit.
I make a squeaking sound that does not resemble anything coherent and then grab a potato with my fork and just stuff it in my mouth. My cheeks bulge, and I’m suddenly very aware that the bite I took was far too big. Was that a whole potato? I mean sure, they’re only the tiny baby ones, but still. I try to chew, but my mouth can’t get around the sheer size.
I stare at Enzo, who has paused with his fork halfway to his mouth, staring at me with an amused expression on his face.
“Put a bit much in there, did you?”
I shake my head, trying to very calmly chew as if I haven’t got a care in the world. If I choke, I swear to god, I’m never touching weed again.
I manage to bite the potato so it shrinks down a little and slowly, looking like a complete idiot as I try not to open my mouth as I break it down, I manage to finally swallow the potato.
I don’t look back at Enzo, because I’m fairly certain the way I just looked was incredibly unattractive. God, he’s probably trying so hard not to laugh. I put my hands and the table and stand, scooting my chair back. “Excuse me, I need the bathroom.”
I don’t.
I have every intention of getting outside and hightailing it back to the cabin so I never have to face any of them again.
I reach the top of the steps leading down when Enzo’s voice calls out behind me. “You doin’ a runner?”
“What?” I squeak, spinning around and awkwardly leaning against the railing as if I planned to be here all along. “No, I was just, ah, admiring the view.”
He grins. “Come with me.”
“Where?” I ask as he walks down the steps toward me.
“You’ll see.”
He walks past me, and I awkwardly follow along, not sure what we’re doing or what he has planned. He leads me in the general direction of the lake.
“I should warn you, if you’re going to take me swimming, that’s a bad idea and likely won’t end well. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m high, and I’ll probably drown.”
He chuckles. “Noted.”
He pauses when we reach the big rows of kayaks on stands. He grabs one and shoves it forward until it slides off and lands with a thud on the grass. I stare at him as he walks around, leans down, picks the handle up, and just carries it down toward the water as if it weighs nothing more than a bag of flour. I follow him down, staring with narrowed eyes as he places it in the water.
“We’re going in that? Seems just as likely that we’ll drown.”
He looks to me. “You’re wearing a lifejacket, nobody is drowning.”
He reaches into the kayak, pulls out a bright red life jacket, and tosses it at me. I don’t catch it, no, that would be graceful and lady like. Instead, the jacket smacks me in the face and then drops to the ground. Did my arms even move in an attempt to catch that jacket? God, how pathetic.