Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Once we’re there, the process is quick and straightforward, and they tell us when we can expect the results.
As soon as we climb back into the car, I say, “Thank you for going on a date with me.”
“You’re the weirdest person I’ve ever met.”
“Yeah, but you like me.”
“I don’t like anyone.”
“You like me,” I counter.
I don’t expect it when he leans in, effectively ending the conversation by pressing his lips to mine. It’s a hard and fast kiss—just as his tongue pushes into my mouth, tasting me, he’s pulling back again. “Now shut up and drive.”
I grab his chin, tug him closer, and give him another kiss, this one slower, languid, and he lets me ravage his mouth with my tongue.
When I ease away, I say, “Yes, sir,” then start the car and drive away. “What do you want to do today?” It’s early, and we’re both off.
“What we always do. Hang out at my place.”
I nod. “You know, we could go see Cass and Meadow.” I’m not going to put us in a situation where we aren’t seen together at all. “Or even Dusty and Morgan.”
“Are you under the impression I did those things before we started fucking?”
“Hey. I’m trying here, smartass. I’m just saying that even though we’re being careful about who knows our business, that doesn’t mean we have to stay isolated.”
“I’ve always kept myself isolated. I like it better that way,” he says playfully, but I know he’s serious.
“It was just an idea.” The car goes silent while I continue driving. He’s looking at me. I feel his gaze zeroing in on me, not letting go. When I glance at him, he doesn’t pretend he wasn’t staring. “What?”
“I know it’s not easy…being friends with me.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Don’t walk on eggshells with me. I make things difficult. I don’t mean to, but I do. Don’t know how to stop.”
Jesus, this man. I have a feeling he’s going to burrow deep into my heart, carving out a place that’s just for him. “Nothing worth having is always easy, sweetheart. I’m sitting in this car with you because it’s where I want to be. If anyone has made you feel like you’re too hard, then they don’t deserve you.”
I turn my attention back to the road, but in my periphery, I see him roll his eyes.
“How do you do it? Care about people so much?”
His question nearly makes me swallow my tongue. I love seeing this side of East, him trusting me enough to let me in on the things that happen inside his head. “I don’t feel like I do anything special,” I tell him.
“That’s what makes it special.”
“Okay, so I don’t think I do anything more than most good people would.”
“There aren’t a lot of good people in the world. Can’t you see that this is a once-in-a-lifetime experience and let me give you a compliment? You’re not much better at taking them than I am.”
Okay, well, that’s true, though that’s not typically a problem for me. “I guess I don’t feel like people should have to be complimented for things everyone should do.”
East shakes his head like he doesn’t know what to do with me, which is a strange turn of events. Usually that’s me doing it to him.
“But they don’t. That’s the point. They don’t, but you do. I wish…”
My heart beats so loudly, I can hardly hear myself think. “Wish what?” I ask when he doesn’t continue.
“Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. We’re almost at the bar. Let’s just…stop by and see if Morgan or Dusty are there. That way you can get your annoying social tendencies out of the way.”
“We don’t have to.”
“Take the win, Arch. Who the fuck knows if I’ll ever give you another one.”
He’s right. Of course he is. I’ve paid enough attention to understand East’s motivations more than I used to, and though he’s suggesting we stop by the bar because he wants to do something nice for me, because he thinks I’m doing something out of the ordinary by being nice to him, I see it for the big step it is. Not wanting to ruin the moment, I don’t even tell him that he called me Arch, though the simple nickname makes me feel like the sun is shooting out of my pores or something.
Instead, I tell him, “Good boy,” and watch his pupils flare when he looks my way.
I do that. I give him that—strength, and those good feelings that course through him when I give him those two words, good being something he never thought he is.
I’ve never been so proud of anything in my life, and I want nothing more than to keep chasing this feeling with East.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Easton
Unfortunately, Dusty’s Jeep and Morgan’s new truck are in the parking lot of the bar when we pull in. I can’t pretend I wasn’t hoping they wouldn’t be there. I’m not proud of that fact, but it’s a fact nonetheless.