Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
“Probably because you’re too gutless to tell her that you like her.”
“I don’t like her.” I widen my eyes to accentuate my point.
“Are you sure about that?” Antony chimes in.
“Fuck off,” I snap.
My eyes rise to meet hers, and I know that she knows.
“Don’t say anything to Rebecca,” I warn her.
She smirks. “I wouldn’t dare.” She wanders around the cul-de-sac and disappears into Rebecca’s house.
“You trust her?”
I hit the ball. “Not one bit.”
Rebecca
“Hey,” Taryn calls as she walks in my front door. “Told you so.”
“Told me what?”
“Blake likes you.”
“He said that?” I frown as I stop stirring dinner.
“Not . . . exactly.”
I roll my eyes. “So he didn’t say it at all?”
“He didn’t need to. It was what he wasn’t saying that gave it away.”
“Like what?”
“I asked him if he liked you, and he said no.”
I hold my hand up. “And there it is, in black and white.”
“Then I gave him the look, and he gave me the look back and said, Don’t tell Rebecca.”
I stare at her as her words roll around in my head. “He said that?”
“Uh-huh.” She picks up a cookie and takes a bite. “He also said he wants to show you his dick.”
“What?” I gasp.
“Nah.” She smiles. “He didn’t say that. Just checking if you’re listening.”
I roll my eyes, and I actually have no idea whether to believe her story or not.
Maybe she’s just in matchmaking mode?
“So, what’s for dinner, anyway?” Taryn asks.
“You are literally looking into the saucepan as we speak.”
“Oh, spaghetti?”
“Yeah.” I smile at my ditzy friend. “Spaghetti.”
Saturday night
I wind the hair up around the curling wand and wait for it to set.
Blake’s words from our first double date come back to haunt me: I like your hair like that.
It’s been the weirdest week; I’ve barely seen Blake since he came to my classroom. I have, however, dreamed of him every night and thought about him all day, every day.
To be honest, I don’t even know if this is real or if this is just me realizing that he’s a good catch . . . for someone else.
It’s like this beacon of light has gone off in my brain, and no matter how many times I try to go back to the way I was thinking and feeling about Blake, I can’t seem to manage it.
My biggest fear is that I will ruin what we have, because I know he’s a lot like John. Everything that I said I would never fall for again.
Charismatic, funny, sexy, and a doctor. Not to mention that every woman who meets him falls madly in love with him.
This is not the kind of guy that I need to be involved with.
So I won’t be.
Tonight, I’m going to give it my best chance with Gregory.
Blake said that he was going to help me date, and to be honest, he hasn’t given me much feedback so far. I mean, with the first date, we both bailed and went and had dessert, and then . . . we had that moment when he told me that he would have liked to have asked for my number if we met in different circumstances.
Does that still stand?
The thing is, as much as I know how Blake plays around and jokes about everything being about sex, I don’t feel it’s like that for the two of us.
We do have a deeper friendship. One that I don’t want to ruin.
It’s fine—it’s just me realizing he’s a good man. It doesn’t mean I like him, just the opposite. This is me appreciating my good friend.
I finish my hair, and I step back and look at myself in the mirror. I’m wearing my favorite cream fitted dress, with my hair down and curled. And tonight I’m catching an Uber there because I want to drink, and Blake is right—I don’t want any more weirdos knowing where I live, so I’m not getting anyone to pick me up anymore. Blake is picking his date up in an Uber too. He said he doesn’t want to meet Kayla at the restaurant because it seems impersonal. Forever the gentleman.
Ugh . . .
I keep going over his friendship with Kayla. I wonder if it’s the same as his friendship with me. He’s so caring and thoughtful when it comes to us. Is he like that with her too?
Deep down, I hate that thought. I hate that someone else has his friendship like I do. I thought it was something special just between us. Maybe not.
But I guess I’ll be able to tell.
He’s drinking tonight, not driving, and I’ve never seen Blake have a few drinks on a date with someone that he likes. Not that I’ve ever seen him with someone that he likes.
I’m not sure I want to either.
I take a deep, steadying breath, grab my purse, and head downstairs to call my Uber. Tonight will be very telling, and I will know once and for all if this Blake thing is all in my head. I really hope it is.