Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 99356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
I had to half-carry her into the Ashford Inn, where Gabby was sitting at the desk with a paperback.
“She needs to sleep this off, but she’s okay,” I said.
Gabby showed a sympathetic smile and watched us head up the stairs.
I got Pearl into our room, pulled off her shoes, and set her down on the bed. Walter wagged his tail, licking at both of us and yipping as he ran excited sprints around the room.
Pearl draped an arm over her eyes, smiling and laughing about something.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Are we going to have sex again?” She was slurring her words so badly that “sex” sounded more like “shecks.”
“No, Pearl. You need to sleep.”
“Really?” She made a kissy face, then burped, covering her mouth. “Because you always seem to want to fuck me, Dean. But you don’t want to keep me, do you?” She laughed a little at that, eyes still closed. “Fuck her. Then, fuck her. Right?”
“I think this conversation would be more productive tomorrow once you’re feeling yourself again.”
“Why don’t you love me back, Dean?” she asked. Now her eyes were filling up with tears and she’d curled up, hugging one of the pillows.
Dammit. I knew the smart thing was to shush her and try to get her to fall asleep. But she was so far gone I doubted she was going to remember much of anything from tonight, so I thought maybe this would be my only chance to really speak my mind to her.
I sat beside her on the bed, stroking her hair as she lay curled up with her back to me. “I do care about you. More than you realize. Way more than you realize,” I said, laughing a little. “You know, I used to think the idea of love was bullshit. Something you tell your mom to make her happy. Something your girlfriends eventually want you to say because it is a symbol of how committed you are. But, the actual idea of caring that much about somebody? Caring so much you’d sacrifice everything you care about for them? I thought that was bullshit.”
“Used to?” Pearl asked. She rolled over and laid her head on my lap, eyes blinking heavily.
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “Used to. Until I met you. And now I’m pushing away the best thing that might ever happen to me because I’m worried I’ll wind up breaking her if I keep her.”
“Wow. Sounds like some girl,” Pearl was drooling on my leg.
I grinned down at her, fingertips sliding along her scalp. “Yeah,” I agreed. “She really is.”
38
PEARL
It was never my plan to be hungover for my sister’s wedding. But that was kind of the thing about bad decisions. Bad decisions were notorious for also coming with a chronic lack of consideration for future consequences.
I had on my bridesmaid’s dress, which was a pastel pink with all sorts of cutesy little bows and ribbons. Lizzie’s people were doing my makeup and hair and the sun had barely risen. My head felt like it was hosting a toddler trying to teach itself to play the drums with golf clubs.
Steph gave me a look, then laughed. “Somebody had a little too much last night, I heard.”
I lifted my middle finger to her. She was Lizzie’s only other bridesmaid. I still couldn’t decide if it was sad or sweet that my sister didn’t have any friends good enough to join our ranks. Or maybe she just cared that much about her sisters.
I glanced at her and laughed, despite the thumping in my head. “I don’t think I can remember the last time I saw you in pink. You look adorable.”
Now it was Steph’s turn to give me her middle finger. “Stuff it.”
We chatted off and on for the hour or so that we were getting done up. I never once mentioned all the things going on in my head about Dean, though. I didn’t even mention the painful dream I’d had last night. I couldn’t remember all of it, but the scraps made me pretty sure Dean had sat down and confessed he really did love me, but he was trying to break things off for my own good. I couldn’t remember what Dream Dean had thought was the grand reason I was better off without him. Either way, even the memory stung.
Why couldn’t real guys be more like the ones in my dreams? Was that so much to ask?
We stopped by Harper’s restaurant in the Ashford Inn once we were finished getting ready. Our task was to make sure everything was going okay and to taste test some of the treats we’d be having before dinner.
Harper served us some crab meat wontons first, which I thought was a somewhat strange choice for an appetizer, considering the main course was French. They were crunchy, creamy, and delicious. She’d even whipped up her own dipping sauce that had a tangy bite, which was the perfect compliment.