Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 113923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Huh. I hadn’t thought about it that way. Although I’m not in love with his phrasing—my little tech thing?—I realize he’s right.
“You make a good point there, Mr. Kincaid.” I stand on my tiptoes and kiss his clean-shaven cheek before ambling forward again.
Another reason Pres and I are well-suited to each other: We’re both business-minded people. Neither of us is enchanted by an artist’s idealism, or distracted by romantic notions of backpacking across Europe or hiking Machu Picchu. We’re products of our upbringing, and our cold blood runs blue. Two formidable, future heads of empires.
There’s a lot to be said for compatibility.
After we explore the art building and the small museum where student work is displayed, wander among the sculptures in the botanical gardens, and follow the footpath through the greenhouse and vegetable garden, Preston brings me around to his car.
“Come on, there’s something else I want to show you.” He opens the door for me, and I slide onto the sleek, leather passenger seat. He puts the top down on the silver Porsche convertible before we drive off.
It’s a short ride around the back of the campus, past the sports complex and up a hill, before we eventually reach a tall, circular building with a dome. The astronomy department’s telescope. Preston leads me to the side of the building, to a door that’s been propped open with a small wooden block.
“Are we supposed to be here?” I ask as we creep inside a narrow hallway that wraps around the circumference of the building.
“I know a guy.” Then Preston puts his index finger to his lips. “But no, not really.”
We follow the hallway to a metal staircase. On the second floor, we enter a room with computers along the wall and a massive telescope in the center, pointed to the sky through a wide slit in the roof.
“Oh, cool,” I say, walking toward the telescope.
Preston stops me. “That’s not what we came to see.”
Instead, he leads me to a door, then a ladder going up to the roof. We emerge onto a platform. From here, we can see the entire campus. Rolling green hills and white-topped buildings. Practically the whole town, all the way to the blue horizon of Avalon Bay. It’s spectacular.
“This is incredible,” I say, smiling at his thoughtfulness and ingenuity.
“It’s not a VIP tour without a bird’s-eye view.” Preston stands behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. He kisses the side of my head as we appreciate the landscape together. “I’m really glad you’re here,” he says softly.
“Me too.”
Admittedly, things were slightly strained between us the last couple of years, while he was at college and I was stuck in high school. Doing the long-distance thing, even when we could see each other on weekends, was stressful. It took a lot of the fun out of our relationship. Today, though, I’m remembering how it was when we first started dating. How enamored of him I’d been, feeling like I’d won a prize, being chosen by an upperclassman.
Still, as Pres holds me against him and nuzzles my neck, a thought nudges its way into the back of my mind.
A very traitorous thought.
Of Cooper’s chiseled jaw and fathomless eyes. The way my pulse sped when he sat beside me and flashed that arrogant smile. I don’t get palpations when Preston walks into a room. My skin doesn’t tingle when he touches me. My thighs don’t clench, and my mouth doesn’t run dry.
Then again, those responses can be overrated. Too many hormones running rampant can cloud your judgment. I mean, look at the statistics—all those people who end up in a dysfunctional relationship because they base it on sex, not compatibility. Pres and I are right for each other. We get along well. We’re on the same trajectory. Our parents already approve, and it keeps everyone happy. I could play the field with a dozen Coopers and get my heart broken by every one. Why do that to myself?
There’s a lot to be said for knowing a good thing when you’ve got it.
“Thank you,” I tell Pres, turning in his arms to kiss him. “Today was perfect.”
But later that night, as I’m half watching Netflix in my room while doing my English Lit reading, a flutter of excitement races through me when Cooper’s name pops up on my phone. Then I remind myself to calm the fuck down.
Cooper: Want to grab dinner?
Me: I already ate.
Cooper: Me too.
Me: Then why’d you ask?
Cooper: To see what you’d say.
Me: So sneaky.
Cooper: What are you doing?
Me: Netflix and homework.
Cooper: Is that code for something?
Me: Busted.
Cooper: I can’t even imagine what rich people porn is like.
Those words on the screen make me squeeze my legs together and put terrible ideas in my head. Which I promptly shove in a box labeled don’t you dare.