Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“I wouldn’t have asked you to leave.” I stare into her eyes.
“What would you have done?” She asks me the loaded question.
“I have no idea,” I tell her honestly. “Who knows? I would have at least gotten your number.”
“That would have saved us a whole bunch of problems.” She smiles sadly, and I know there is more to that statement than meets the eye. The server comes back with two bowls, placing one in front of Addison and another one in front of me. I look down at the bowl of green, and she must see the grimace on my face because she laughs out loud. It takes me back to the night in the restaurant, right before I asked her to come back to my place.
“Thank you,” Addison tells the server before she walks away from the table. “It’s good, try it.”
“I know what kale tastes like. It’s an acquired taste, and I have not acquired it,” I admit to her as she grabs her fork and starts eating.
“How did your parents deal with you having the baby?” I ask her, and she avoids even looking up.
“They weren’t fans of my decision,” she says, “but it was never a decision in my head.”
“I guess they’ve changed their minds now.” I pick up the fork and play with the kale in the bowl.
“I guess so,” she replies before taking a bite of her kale.
“Well, you’ve met my family.” I chuckle.
“I have.” She smirks and tucks her hair behind her ear. “All four hundred of them.”
“I need to tell them.” I try the kale, and just like all the other times, it’s as gross as it always was. “This is… I can’t,” I say, pushing the plate away from me.
“Oh my,” she exhales.
“Oh my for the kale, or oh my for me having to tell my family?” I grab the glass of water as I force down the kale.
“A bit of both.” She laughs, and her eyes light up a bit.
“Well, my father knows,” I tell her, and her fork falls out of her hand with a clang. “He put two and two together when he saw me talking to her.”
She puts her hand on her head. “Does he hate me?” Her voice goes so low, if I wasn’t sitting in front of her, I wouldn’t have heard her.
“No.” I shake my head, my voice coming out tight. “He doesn’t hate you. Me, on the other hand, he was ready to kick my ass for leaving you.”
“Did you tell him that I didn’t tell you? Well, even if I wanted to tell you, do you know how many Stefanos there are in the world?” I just stare at her. “Twenty-four million hits from Google.”
“You searched just my first name?” I ask her, trying not to laugh.
“That’s all I had. I tried to think of other things but well…” She looks down. “I didn’t really remember them, and it was six weeks after, so…” She shrugs.
“After I meet her, I’d like my parents to meet her and then we can ease the rest of the family into it.” Her eyes go big. “I mean, Matty has already met her. And, well, my uncle Matthew will want to meet her for sure.”
“That sounds reasonable. I won’t ever keep her from you or your family.” Her voice trails off, and I know she wants to say something else, so I wait. “I just ask that you don’t parade women in front of her.” She swallows hard. “I get that you have a girlfriend, and eventually, she is going to meet her, but before she does, I would like to meet her.”
“That sounds reasonable,” I admit to her, “and if you get a boyfriend.” She nods her head. “How about I meet her first, and then we can set up a date for her to meet my parents?”
“That sounds good,” she replies, and now she’s the one pushing the kale around in her bowl.
“How about tomorrow?” Her eyes fly to mine, shocked. “We can do dinner.” To be honest, I would have done it right now, but it’s getting late, and I’m not sure if I was pushing things.
She takes a deep inhale, putting down her fork. “I guess there is no good time for this, really.”
The server comes over and picks up the plates before asking us if we want anything else. We both say no, and she walks away. “Where do you want to do it?” I ask her.
“We can do it at my place, in her environment,” she states. “I think that would be the easiest.”
The server comes over and puts the bill down, and I snatch it up before she gets to it. “I got it,” I tell her. “What is her favorite food?”
“Pizza,” she says, “Eggos, the blueberry ones and not the chocolate chip ones. White bread not wheat, even though it’s better for her. Bananas and strawberries cut up together, she loves that. Burgers, she likes burgers with cheese, no veggies or sauce. Fries, well, because who doesn’t like french fries. Twice-baked potatoes with bacon in it because without it, it doesn’t taste the same.”