Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 116362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
“I can’t believe you’ve lived in Victoria your whole life and you’ve never been here.”
“You wouldn’t believe a lot of things about myself,” I mumble, absently noting that every cocktail seems to have gin in it. How very English, just like Blake.
“Try me,” he says.
I glance at him over the menu. “Try what?”
He sits back in his chair, all completely at ease and flashes me that smile. “Tell me something about yourself that I wouldn’t believe.”
I’m not sure if he’s serious or not. “Let me get a drink first.”
Only it’s so very hard to choose. I settle on some raspberry vinegary drink called a “shrub.”
“There’s something you probably wouldn’t believe,” I tell him after the waitress takes our order (and doesn’t seem to bare him any ill-will). “I like my drinks with vinegar in them.” Though it’s a first for me as well.
He cocks his head, seeming to think that over. “I believe it. Ever been to New York?”
I can’t help but sigh. “No. I always wanted to. Even tried to last year, booked the hotel and everything but…things didn’t happen.”
“No money? The city is expensive.”
I lick my lips, hesitating. “I had the money. I mean, my parents would have paid for it.”
I can see a light going off in his head as he nods, the look of this rich bitch.
“Then why?” he asks and I have to give him credit for not saying anything about my privilege.
“Ex-boyfriend. The one I mentioned before.”
“Alan?”
I’m impressed. “You have good memory.”
“There’s a lot of good about me that you don’t know about,” he says lightly though I swear there’s a slight edge to his voice. “Anyway, in New York they have a pickle bar. Actually they have a few pickle bars.”
“A pickle bar,” I repeat.
“Just as the name says. I went a few years ago, got a cheap flight out from Gatwick and spent a week wandering around the city with no plans at all.” He gets this dreamy, faraway look in his eyes as he stares at the fire. He shakes his head slightly, snapping out of it. “So the pickle bar is in East Village, I think, and it’s nothing fancy, just a good place to get a drink except they serve their shots with pickle juice and you can even order a jar of pickles to eat on the side.”
“That sounds…”
“Brilliant, right?”
Actually for my pickle-loving soul it does. “Who did you go to New York with? Family?”
“Ex-girlfriend,” he says.
“When did you guys break up?”
He rubs his fingers along his chin and stares at the ceiling. “Um, maybe a year ago. No, less than that.”
“She’s still in England.”
He gives me a simple nod. “Yes,” he says, baring his teeth slightly.
“That can’t be easy,” I say, trying to put myself in his shoes. “Long distance and all that. I mean normal relationships are hard enough, I can’t imagine how difficult they are when you’re continents apart.”
“Yes, well, lesson learned,” he says quickly, smiling up at the waitress as she drops off our drinks. He gestures to me. “Did you want to order food?”
“What did I say earlier?”
“That we’re obviously here to drink, then eat, then work.”
I glance at the waitress and she’s beaming down at us like we’re some couple on their first date. I have the urge to tell her that I have to be here in order to graduate but I’m sure she’s heard it all before.
I hold out my hand for the menu and the waitress hands it back.
“I don’t know how I got roped into going to dinner with you,” I tell him, trying to keep my focus on the list of farm-to-table food.
“Because I’m utterly charming,” he explains, splaying his hands out.
“Well at least you didn’t mention your cock. That has to be a first.”
He doesn’t say anything and I have to glance over my menu at him. He’s staring at me with the intensity he had in the halls earlier, though his eyes look a bit lazier, languid, like they’re drinking me in and loving it.
I swallow uneasily, not used to this attention from him, and pick up my drink. I take a timid sip, the vinegar a shock to my tongue but it quickly blends with the raspberry and other liqueurs. Before I know what I’m doing, I’ve finished half the drink and my body immediately relaxes.
“Thirsty?” Blake comments after a sip of his dark beer.
“It’s a small glass,” I say defensively.
“And I’m paying,” he says. “And driving. Go nuts.”
I push the drink away. “I’ll behave.”
He waits a beat, licking his lips, before he says, “I wish you wouldn’t.”
Oh boy. I meet his eyes and I’m held there for a moment. This whole thing was a mistake. I should have stayed mad at him. I should have insisted we work on this in the library like we have before.