Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
I set my phone down, my eyes widening. I never would have expected Tripp to write something this beautiful. When he told me he was writing, I figured probably sci-fi, or a thriller. I never expected he’d write such romantic prose.
It makes me yearn to be the woman who could have a man’s attention like this. Nobody has ever looked at me this way, studied me. It almost makes me sad.
I open up his doc, and write an email back to him.
Tripp,
Read a bit of what you sent and it’s really great! I never thought you’d be this talented.
I stop typing, wondering if I’m underestimating him. I erase my email, and start over.
Tripp,
Just read what you sent, and it’s amazing! I’d love to read more.
Millie.
There. Quick and professional. A part of me wants to ask about his inspiration. Is there somebody he’s picturing when he writes these words? What a lucky woman.
I know I’ve read countless romance novels where I’ve envisioned having the love like what’s portrayed between the pages.
I know it doesn’t exist.
Not really.
Men like book boyfriends just don’t exist, and reading Tripp write these words I need to remember he’s writing fiction, not fact.
I dated his older brother, Brock, and believe me the Atwood’s wouldn’t know romance if it slapped them in the face.
Because Brock was not romantic. I recently heard him and Willow are dating, and it makes me wonder if he’s always had a small thing for her. Because they used to bicker back and forth at the Atwood weekly dinners. I only went to a few of them while dating Brock, and I try to remember Tripp there.
I vaguely remember. I was so nervous being in such a large group, that I sort of kept to myself. Except the one night. I lie back on my couch, remembering the way Tripp smiled at me when he and I ran into each other in the hallway of his parent’s home.
I was coming out of the bathroom, and Tripp was moving toward it. We ran right into one another, and Tripp’s hands caught me by my hips, and I remember the feeling that coursed through me was so intense.
It was as if he could see right through me. Like straight into my soul. It was a mere blip on his radar, I’m sure, but for me it was unlike anything I’d ever felt before.
I broke up with Brock the very next day, telling him there was no spark.
Honestly, I’ve only felt that spark twice in my life. Once when Tripp held me in the hallway that night at family dinner. The second time was tonight when he touched my arm to stop me from bagging up his book, asking me not to tell anyone about his writings.
What is happening here?
I’m not attracted to Brock’s little brother. No. I’m just not.
I open up the document and continue reading Tripp’s words, and when I fall asleep that night, I’m dreaming about the world he’s created. The one where a man adores a woman who has no clue he exists.
Chapter 4
Tripp
“Tripp, get off your damn phone. This order is going to get cold,” Griffin shouts.
I suppress an eye roll and shove my phone into my pocket. He thinks I’m scrolling social media or maybe he thinks I’m talking to some girls, but none of that is true. I’m texting my mother back who has asked me to stop at the store for her before I get home tonight.
I grab the food Griffin has prepared and bring it out to the table. “Two burgers and fries. Let me know if you need anything else,” I say, placing the order down.
This is my life. I’m reduced to being a waiter at Atta Boy Brewery and Restaurant. I’m not saying I don’t appreciate the job, I’m grateful to my older brothers who own the brewery. It’s just not what I want to be doing with my life. I’d rather be writing, but it’s just not something they will understand.
I’m the youngest of six kids. Five boys and one girl. My brothers own and run this brewery. My sister is in charge of all the parties in the party room.
The love they all have for this place is something amazing, especially Callum, my oldest brother, he’s given up his social life to run Atta Boy. He’s devoted everything to this brewery. Shepherd is his right-hand guy and makes sure everything runs smoothly. No one is better than Brock at making beer. Paxton has the most unbelievable selling skills, getting this beer served all over the place. Anya fought her way to be a part of the brewery and she’s improved it so much with the party room she’s created.
And then there’s me. The youngest of the family, the one they all seem to believe is destined to carry on the legacy. My brothers say it’s in my blood, that this path was chosen for me long before I was old enough to understand what they were molding me into. They speak about it like it’s an honor, a birthright—like it’s the only thing I should ever want.