Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
"I’m scared to ask another one."
"How about I ask some, then?"
She twists in her seat to face me, letting her hand rest across her lap. "Okay, Mr. Loverman. You ask the questions. But I’m reserving my last questions until the end."
"How long are you staying in Australia?" It’s the obvious first question.
"I don’t know. Long enough to enjoy it. Not so long that I get bored."
I frown, signaling into the wholesaler carpark. "What’s there to get bored with?"
She shrugs, drumming her fingers on the ledge by the window. "The world is big, Cooper. There’s so much to see and so much to do."
"There’s a lot to see and do here, too."
"There is. And I intend to make the most of it."
I pull the handbrake and shift in my seat until I’m staring right into Dawn’s pretty moss-colored eyes. "What do you want to experience on your trip?"
"Everything that’s in the Lonely Planet guide," she says. "And a few extra things."
"Are me and my Cloud 9 mates the extra things?"
"Possibly," she says. "I wouldn’t take anything for granted."
"And what do you think seeing and doing all these things is going to do for you?"
Dawn frowns, and her leg begins to bounce. "Expand my mind. Teach me more about the world and the people in it."
"And more about yourself?"
"Is that one of your questions?"
"That depends on if you answer it."
As I expected, Dawn’s hand reaches for the handle. "Do we ever really know what we need to discover about ourselves?" she asks, before throwing open the door and sliding off the seat into the warm sun.
Do we? It’s a great question. Even when we know things about ourselves, they can be easy to ignore if they’re hard to deal with.
"You’re either desperate to see the inside of the wholesaler or desperate to get away from my questions."
"It could be a mix of both," she says, bouncing lightly on her feet.
I lead the way, searching for another question that will help me better understand this girl, pushing the door open into the welcoming cool store.
Dawn pauses at the entrance, looking around with wide eyes. "So this is the wholesaler?" The awe in her voice is forced, but I pretend she’s genuinely excited.
"Yes it is." I spread my arms like a game show host, ready to show a new contestant how to play. "You can push the trolley." I grab one from next to us and Dawn takes the handle.
"You know, I never realized how different our language is until I came here. We call this a cart."
"Yeah. You’re weird."
"Me personally, or all Americans?"
"That remains to be seen." I pull the list from my back pocket and stride around the store, pulling things from the shelves as quickly as possible.
"You can ask me more questions," Dawn says.
"Favorite sexual position?" I say loudly, drawing the attention of two middle-aged dudes in drooping jeans.
"All of them," Dawn says. "Next."
"Favorite book?"
"The Scorpio Races. You wouldn’t know it."
"What’s so good about it?" I ask, intrigued that she’d be able to answer the question so quickly. It would probably take me hours to come up with an equivalent answer.
"I don’t think it would be your kind of book," she says. "It’s young adult paranormal fiction. It’s about orphaned kids on an island where they race dangerous water horses. The main characters are so strong and determined and the way they fall in love is just so tender. They see each other…like really see each other for the good and the bad, the flaws and the perfections."
"I’m not sure about the water horses, but the rest sounds good."
I place a box of napkins in the trolley, and we head over to the rack of plastic cups.
For thirty minutes, we gather everything on Lachlan’s list until the trolley becomes too heavy for Dawn to push and I’ve exhausted all but one of my questions.
"Last one," Dawn says, holding up her index finger to illustrate the point.
"Were you serious about what you said at breakfast? About the schedule?"
Dawn grins at me over the huge pile of boxes, her hair tumbling over her shoulders in waves that just ache for my touch. And as I wait for her to answer, I realize that she could have answered anything to my other questions, and I wouldn’t have cared. This is the only one that I’m desperate for her to answer yes to. The one that’s set my heart into an uncomfortable thudding rhythm.
"Of course," she says in the end. "Who would joke about something like that? Sex is everything. As important as eating and drinking."
I don’t know what to call the feeling I get at her answer. Relief. Excitement. Desperation to get Dawn back to her room and taste her pleasure.
All of the above.
I’m momentarily lost for words because I’ve never been faced with a situation where a girl is effectively offering to share herself with me without the usual conversations about where our relationship is going and what it means to me.