Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 98134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
“I wanted your advice on the dress,” she says. “And the bed thing was funny. It’s not like my boobs flopping wildly out of a towel in that kind of chaos is going to be sexy to anyone. Jake was overreacting. He always does.”
“Yeah,” I say, wondering how she thinks seeing her bare chest could’ve not been sexy in any context. “But, it’s about respect. Jake is my best friend. It’s disrespectful to give him any reason to worry about my intentions with his little sister.”
Andi rolls her eyes. “And what about the little sister? Does anyone worry about what is respectful or disrespectful to her? Like talking about her as if she’s some symbolic object instead of a living, breathing person who may have preferences of her own?”
Shit. I can see she’s right, but I’m also stuck between two impossible options. Dropping the cold and silent act with Andi is going to be a betrayal to my best friend. But it’s like she says. Acting as if Jake has the right to decide what’s best for Andi isn’t fair to her.
I hang my head and shake it. “I’m sorry, Andi. I don’t really know how to win here.”
She makes a frustrated noise and turns her back, pulling down the candy cane lights and tapping her chin, like she’s trying to figure out where to put them.
“What?” I ask.
She keeps her back to me for a few seconds. “I guess I thought maybe you’d be different than the other guys I’ve known. They run scared of me the moment Jake enters the picture. The only relationships I’ve ever had last more than a few weeks were the ones that started when he was too busy with hockey to screw them up in time. But I thought you were nice enough that you would at least still treat me like a person, even when he showed up. I’m just disappointed, but it’s alright. You don’t owe me anything.”
I open my mouth to say something but can’t seem to find the right words. I want to tell her that yeah, sure, if things were different I’d be interested in her. I haven’t enjoyed spending time with a woman like this in a long ass time. But I also don’t want to lead her on. I know I’m not ready to open up any time soon, and Andi would deserve that from me. All I’d be able to offer her is sex and something casual. She deserves way more than that, and she definitely doesn’t need to hear me explain it that way.
It feels like the only correct response is to stay silent.
Andi apparently disagrees, because she drops the candy canes a few seconds later and goes inside, closing the front door a little too hard.
I consider going after her, but know it wouldn’t do any good. Instead, I finish up the job and head back to the cabin for the day. I told Caroline I’d stick around until afternoon when the guys got back from practice, but I figure she has Andi now. And Andi will probably be relieved to find me gone when she goes back out, anyway.
11
ANDI
I only realize I’m throwing a quiet tantrum a few minutes too late. I’ve just set a cardboard box of decorative lights down on the counter inside Caroline’s bed and breakfast with a thud when it hits me.
Suddenly self-conscious, I glance toward Caroline, who is curled up in a chair by the fire with a cup of something in one hand and a crumpled old paperback in the other. It looks like a book she has read a few dozen times. She’s not paying attention to the book or the drink, though. She’s watching me with a glint of knowing amusement flickering in her eyes.
Caroline’s last guest headed out into the town for the day and she suggested we both take a break. She’s doing exactly that while I’ve been trying to keep busy, but not actually accomplishing anything.
I sigh, spreading my hands. “Go ahead. Say it.”
“You’ve got that frustrated by Jesse Prince look on your face. I’ve seen it before.”
“I just don’t think I understand him.”
Caroline gestures to the open chair across from her on the other side of the fire, eyes still dancing.
I sit down and fold my arms like I’m arriving for a therapy session. It’s ridiculous. On top of the burning ruins of whatever I left behind at the altar two days ago, I’ve now apparently decided to be dramatic about some guy I just met not acting like “himself” around me? I try to snap out of it, but it’s not working.
“What did he do?” Caroline asks.
I shrug. “He didn’t do anything. I just met him two days ago and for some reason I’m letting myself get frustrated that he’s not acting normal. I don’t even know what normal is for him.”