Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
And there he was.
Wearing all black, his hair slightly damp. He wore a tight black T-shirt that hugged his large upper body. I could only imagine what was really beneath it—most likely pounds of solid, delicious muscle.
He scanned the restaurant with furrowed brows and when they found mine, I lifted a hand to wave. He walked in my direction, his face softening up as he met at the table.
Sliding into the booth, he blew out a breath and then mumbled, “Sorry… about being late.”
“It’s okay,” I replied quickly, but I was curious why he wasn’t on time. “Were you working?” I asked, pushing towards it.
To my surprise, he filled me in. “My grandma needed me to make a run to the grocery store for her.” He fought a smile, dropping his gaze to the table. It was almost child-like, as if he was embarrassed to even say what was next, but so happy deep down. Drake had pride that could kill him. “She’s baking a cake.”
“A cake? For what?” I inquired.
“Me.”
“You?” I narrowed my brows. And then it hit me. There was only one reason someone would bake Drake a cake and for him to actually allow it. “Oh my gosh! Wait—it’s your birthday today?!”
He barely nodded. “Might be.”
“Wow—well, happy birthday!” I exclaimed, grinning maniacally.
He looked around the restaurant as if he were embarrassed by my obnoxiousness. I figured he was when his cheeks tinged red, and when I looked around a few of the waiters and waitresses were looking at us.
“Oops. Sorry,” I giggled, covering my mouth quickly.
“It’s cool.” One of his cheeks quirked up as he ran his eyes down my chest. “Thank you.”
I tried hard not to cover my chest—but only because I didn’t want him to stop looking. I liked that he was. It proved to me that maybe he found me just as attractive as I did him.
“So June 16th. You should have told me it was your birthday. I could have treated you to a better place than this. A nice dinner somewhere downtown.”
“Like I would let you spend a dime on me.”
“Why not? We’re friends, right? It’s what friends do.”
“Hmm.” He grunted and his lips twitched.
My eyebrows shot up. “What?”
“After what went down last night, I think we’ve become a little more than just friends.”
I blushed, my face burning up.
Drake leaned forward, reaching across the table. The pad of his thumb stroked my cheek, and at first I thought it was an act of affection, but when he pulled away and showed me his thumb, defeat settled in my veins.
Oh.
“Like whipped cream on your shake?” he asked.
“Yep,” I sighed.
“You had a chocolate one last night too.”
“Favorite flavor,” I confirmed.
He nodded.
“You know, we should celebrate your birthday.”
“Yeah?” He exhaled, leaning back and folding his thick arms over his chest. “How?”
“There’s a carnival going on nearby. We could go.”
“Are we ten again?” he teased.
I laughed. “No. But I think it’d be a fun experience. I haven’t been to a carnival in ages. Almost ten years I think—back when Mitch—”
I looked up and rapidly stopped talking, biting the inside of my cheek. Drake’s head tilted, more attentive now. I knew he wanted to speak on it—ask about it, but I didn’t bother. I looked away and finished with what I’d started with.
“We should really go,” I murmured. “I think it would be fun.”
He was still watching me. I could feel his hard, observant gaze, the heat of it. But, as always, he let it go, dropping his arms and looking away too.
Great. Just great. I made things awkward for him. Why do I always have to ruin stuff?
To my luck, the waiter came to the table and asked for my order. He looked over at Drake but Drake shook his head, holding a hand up to dismiss him.
When he walked away I asked, “Why aren’t you eating? Isn’t this where you wanted to catch lunch?”
“Yes… but my grandma can be… a smotherer. I know that isn’t a word, but that’s the closest thing to it. She wouldn’t let me walk back out of the house without eating something.”
I smiled. “Aww.” It was cute to hear him talk about her this way. A boy who loved his grandma. It was the sweetest thing ever. The way his eyes lit up, how he couldn’t help his smile. It was adorable, really.
He sighed. “I guess… when you finish eating, we can do the carnival. I have to tell you now that I won’t be able to stay with you all night. I have to be somewhere later.”
“Where?” I asked, picking up my milkshake.
His eyes locked on mine, his gaze no longer soft.
“Oh.” I lowered my straw. “The Dawg Pit?”
His lips pressed together.
“On your birthday?” I whispered. “But I thought you only fought on Wednesdays and Fridays?”
“Tonight is different. Every time there is a fighter’s birthday we throw a Smashdown Birthday celebration before the real fights.”