Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 72401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
I narrowed my eyes at him as I pulled out my phone.
“Hello?” My best friend answered.
“I need a ride,” I said without preamble.
“I can’t,” Cody said. “I’m at work. Where are you?”
“Fuuuuck,” I groaned. “I’m at my grandmother’s. You weren’t supposed to work today!”
My whine was evident, even to me.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “But it’s not my fault. I was called in because Rita called in sick again. You know they have to have someone willing to come in. It’s not like I could’ve said no. The boss is my mother.”
I snorted. Rita was the charge nurse, and Cody’s mom was the ER director. She was the one whom everyone went to if they had a problem. She was incredibly busy, and Cody and I tried to help her out anytime she needed it.
I’m sure the only reason I wasn’t called was that I’d just come off shift.
“Well, fuck me,” I groaned, studiously ignoring the badass that was now throwing his leg off his bike and standing up straight.
“Sorry, chicka. My barn door doesn’t open for the heifers. Only for the bulls,” Cody quipped.
“Oh, my God. I cannot believe you just said that to me,” I said in exasperation. “I need some of your juju. Send it to me and pray my car starts. If it doesn’t, I’m going to sell your Waterford egg.”
“I gave that to you for safekeeping!” He yelled just before I hung up.
Cleo tapped on my window, but I ignored him, and twisted the key again.
It turned, and turned, and turned.
I ignored him, trying to start it one more time.
It turned over, starting with a coughing, choking, smothering roar.
The old diesel engine rumbled like a defective cat’s purr, and I backed out of my spot in a hurry, before slamming my foot down on the gas pedal.
The gravel underneath my car’s tire flew back, pelting the concrete wall behind me.
My poor little car sputtered and groaned as I accelerated out of the parking lot.
I vowed that tomorrow I’d get a new car.
A girl needed a car that was reliable. Especially when I had a man on my heels that was harder on my heart than a supersized order of french fries.
Chapter 2
I love you more than you annoy me, which is a lot.
-E-card
Rue
I blinked my eyes open blearily, glaring at the alarm clock that was spewing its obnoxious tone.
Nobody needs The Beach Boys that early in the morning, regardless of how catchy their tune was.
I had to get up, because it was the type of alarm that moved and shook when it started going off.
Inevitably, it meant it would either roll under my bed and get lost in the great black hole, or it’d roll down the opposite side and get stuck behind the night stand.
Today, however, was the bed.
Rolling off the opposite side, while barely opening my eyes, I followed the vibrating mass of annoyance to the floor, and then further under the bed.
I started out with just my arm underneath, but it finally went to the entire length of my body.
My hand closed around the ball, and it quieted instantly.
I laid my head on the ground beneath my bed. However, I didn’t stay for long due to the roll of wrapping paper being smashed underneath the weight of my body. Reluctantly, I continued to crawl to the other side.
The first hint that something wasn’t right was the massive pair of boots I saw extended in front of a long pair of muscular legs.
I followed the legs up to see a narrow set of hips sitting on the chase lounge I had next to my bed.
Then my forehead thumped to the ground as Cleo’s serious eyes connected with my own.
“I see you kept my present,” Cleo said as he reached forward and grabbed the alarm out of my hand.
I started to shimmy out from under the bed, and then got slowly up to my knees in between his.
His eyes flared hot, but I didn’t stay there long, pushing quickly to my feet and getting as far away from him as possible and still be in the room.
His eyes went to the short hemline of my shirt and stayed there.
I had, indeed, kept his present.
“It’s the only thing that gets me out of bed on time,” I replied as I gave him my back.
“I know. I couldn’t get you out of bed. However this,” he said as he pointed at the alarm in his hand, “gets you up every time. This is the first time I’ve seen it in use, though. I rather liked the show.”
I was lucky I’d gone to the opposite side of the bed, or he’d have seen that I wasn’t wearing any panties beneath my sleep shirt.
Then I slapped my hand against my head.
His shirt.
His red PJ shirt that felt so soft against my skin that sometimes I imagined it was his fingertips.
“Nice shirt,” he said devilishly.
“Fuck you,” I said as I stomped to the door then slammed it behind me.
I did my usual routine of washing my hair with my head hung over the side of the shower. Then I slicked some mousse and gel in it before letting it hang down my back to dry.
The curly mass was already giving me a tension headache, but that was the problem with having long hair. You either dealt with it, or cut it off.
I’d tried to cut it off.
I’d even gone so far as to be sitting in the salon chair while my hairdresser held scissors in one hand, and the mass of my hair in the other.
Then his voice came back to me.
God I love your hair. Don’t ever cut it. It’s so fucking sexy. He’d said one night after we went on a ride.
Stupidly, I’d told the woman no, and that I was sorry.
I paid her what she would’ve gotten out of me anyway, and never went back.
Even now, six months later, I only ever trimmed it with a pair of my own scissors.
Why?
Because I was a stupid girl.
A fucking stupid, in love with a man who’d never love me back, girl.