Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
“If you say so.” When Frankie gets her mind set on something, there is no turning back. It’s best to let her stew on it more because she can flip on herself. “How nice was his place?”
“It was insane.” It makes me wonder what Dylan’s place looks like. I’m sure he too can have his pick of women, but he didn’t act as though he was running around dating every girl.
“He stayed the night, and I went to meet his mom.” Frankie's egg roll pauses almost to her mouth.
“Fuck me, that’s fast.”
“It is, isn’t it?” I worry my bottom lip between my teeth. I’m still trying to process it all myself. It feels so natural and right. That’s what I’m struggling with the most.
“But you don’t want to see it that way?”
“I should. I know that. I’m just not sure I want to slow down. When it’s only him and me…” I shake my head. “I can’t explain it. It’s freeing and fun. I feel light.”
“The whole thing with Julie was weird, but between you and me, she is weird. I like Dylan. He’s got a good wholesome vibe, which is strange 'cause he’s a lawyer and that prenup bullshit, but the vibe is still good.”
“That’s how I’ve been feeling too. There is something about him.”
“Then keep going with it.”
“He hasn’t texted me since I had to rush out on him today.”
“He’s a lawyer. I’m sure he gets it. Probably giving you space.”
Yeah,” I agree but don’t really want to.
A knock sounds at the door. “Expecting someone?”
“No.” I walk over to the door and look through the peephole to see Dylan standing there. It’s him, I mouth to Frankie, who wiggles her brows in response. I run my fingers through my hair before I open the door.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey.” He gives me a half smile. “Sorry.”
“Sorry for wh—” I’m cut off when Dylan’s hand cups the back of my neck and he pulls me toward him, his mouth coming down onto mine in a deep kiss that leaves me breathless.
“Was trying to let you do your thing, but somehow I ended up here.”
"Good," I say before pulling him back down for another kiss.
Chapter Seventeen
DYLAN
Frankie keeps staring at me. I’ve been waiting for her to say something, especially since I was eating her best friend’s face off ten minutes earlier, but all that’s happened is for silence to stretch out between us. That’s a technique I’ve used often in law. Continued stillness makes people feel uncomfortable, and eventually, they’ll start to talk to fill that dead space. Frankie and Natalie being lawyers means they’ve probably also used this trick. We could end up not saying a word for hours. I cave first.
“How did the emergency at work go?” I direct my question at Natalie. While she answers, I pick up an egg roll and pop it in my mouth.
“Not great. I’ve got a terrible client.”
“She’s losing the PR war,” Frankie volunteers, wiping her mouth off with a napkin and then tossing it aside, apparently done eating for the night. I try not to make my glee at this too obvious, but I can’t wait until Natalie and I are alone.
“Half the battle sometimes. Did he say something to the press?”
“When is he not talking to the press?” Natalie mutters. She starts putting the leftover Chinese away. I jump up to help, feeling her friend’s eyes watching me the whole time.
“No questions about my intentions?” I say lightly.
“Do you have bad intentions?”
“No. They’re all good.”
She looks to Natalie as if to check to see if I’m lying.
“So far, it’s all been great.” She spreads her hands out, palms up as if to say she’s sorry for confirming my assertion.
Frankie slides off the chair. “Since Nat is a big girl, I’ll let this play out, but remember, honey”—she directs this bit toward her friend—“you can’t trust a State Raider.”
“I didn’t go to State,” I say in my defense. “I went to Harvard.”
“That’s right.” Frankie snaps her fingers. “I’ll put that in the pro column.”
“I appreciate it. How many checks are in the con column?”
“So many. It’s a big deficit.”
Smiling, Natalie pushes Frankie toward the door. “I’ll make him work off some of the negatives tonight.”
“Terrifying,” I say without an ounce of fear in my voice and a big grin on my face.
I wait a couple of seconds after Frankie leaves before I sweep Natalie up in my arms. “I see you ate dinner, so we can go straight for dessert.”
We kiss until my legs hit the side of her mattress, but as I’m setting Natalie down, she grips my biceps. “Dylan, are we going too fast?”
We haven’t had sex yet, so it feels like we are going just the right speed, but her question after the criticism from my friends gives me pause. I rest my weight on the bed, letting the mattress dip down as we both make contact with the soft surface. Natalie’s hair is bound up in a clip. Her not so sexy attire consists of an oversized T-shirt and a pair of gym shorts that go to her knees. She was not expecting me, and I was trying to stay away to give her more space, but my feet propelled me to her apartment building, up her stairs, and my fist was on her door before I fully realized my actions. I suppose that is fast because, as Graham said, I don’t even know Natalie’s middle name. I can rectify that one. “What comes after Natalie?” At her quizzical, confused look, I add, “The name. What’s your middle name?”