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)
“We’ll give them a wave on our way out,” I force out as I smile.
I feel like crying howl-to-the-moon sobs.
I’m too late. I finally realized how perfect Blake is, and he’s on a date with his dream girl.
They’re probably going to get married and have babies and live happily ever after in a house two doors down from mine.
Fuck. My. Life.
We pay our half of the bill while I try desperately not to look at the dance floor, although it’s kind of hard when they’re just about making a porno in the corner.
Gregory waves goodbye, and Blake hardly even looks up. He waves and goes back to kissing Kayla.
My heart sinks lower than it has in a very long time.
This night can’t be over soon enough.
Three hours later, I stand in the cab line with Gregory.
“I’m going to call you tomorrow.” He smiles down at me.
“Sounds good.”
“This is the part of the night I’ve been looking forward to the most,” he whispers.
Oh no.
“Why is that?” I force a smile. Please don’t kiss me.
“Because I’m hoping I get to kiss the girl.”
“Oh.” I smile nervously. He steps forward and his lips take mine and he kisses me, and it’s sweet and warm and nice.
Comfortable.
Not bad, actually . . .
I get a vision of Blake and Kayla kissing, and I step back from him, disappointed in myself. I desperately wanted the earth to move with that kiss.
But it didn’t.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay.” I get into the cab, and he closes my door and then waves as it drives away.
I feel hot and sweaty. I put my head in my hands in the back seat. Every time I think I’m ready, it turns out that I’m not. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to move on.
Gregory was nice. Gregory ticked every box. Gregory liked me . . . but all I can do is be sad about Blake.
What the hell is wrong with me?
4:00 a.m.
I sit by the window and watch the street. Blake still hasn’t come home. I don’t know why I’m doing this to myself.
I mean, it’s obvious where he is.
But I needed to know, and now I do.
Right now, somewhere out there, he’s having sex with Kayla.
Chapter 14
Barry paces back and forth in front of the door as I sip my coffee and plot Blake’s murder. It’s Barry’s walk time, but of course Blake isn’t home from his date last night yet, so we all know that’s not happening.
I imagine myself ripping him limb from limb.
Barry paces and paces as he looks up at me all excited. Like, ugh . . . “Fine,” I snap. “I’ll take you for your walk.” I grab his lead and open the back door, and Barry races outside and runs around with the zoomies. He runs full speed one way and then the other, then he circles the entire garden. I roll my eyes. I usually think it’s cute when he does this, but today, not so much.
I’m tired and I’m cranky and I’m well aware of why . . . I hate men.
On Monday morning, I’m going to buy myself eight cats to grow old with.
“This way.” I hold up the lead, and he comes trotting over. I attach him and open the side gate, and right on cue, he takes off and nearly pulls my arm out of the socket, and I go flying forward.
“Barry!” I yell. I try to rein him in with all my might. “Don’t pull.”
“That dog is a menace in the mornings,” Carol calls as she waters her garden.
“Sure is.” I fake a smile. “Morning, Carol.” I wave.
“Hello, dear.” She keeps watering.
If there’s one thing I can always depend on, it’s seeing Carol in her pink dressing gown watering her garden every morning at six.
After a few houses, Barry calms down, and we get into our normal routine, and he begins to behave.
The silver Porsche comes around the corner, and my blood boils. He winds down the window and pulls up beside me. “I was going to walk him.”
“You’re too late,” I spit.
Act cool.
“Wait for me. I’ll come with you,” Blake says.
“I’m good.” I roll my lips to try and hold my snarky tongue.
“Did you have a good night?” He smiles through the car window.
Not as good as yours.
“Great night.”
“You like him?” He smiles.
“Gregory could be the one.” I’m lying through my teeth. Not even close. There is zero chemistry between us, not that I’ll ever let on. “And your night was . . . ?”
“It was okay.”
I stare at him, deadpan. “Just okay?”
“Maybe . . .” He breaks into a slow, sexy smile. “More than okay.”
I clench my jaw so hard, I’m surprised that my teeth don’t crack in half. “Great.” I can’t even push a single word past my lips.
“When are you seeing him again?” he asks.