Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 70528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
She has a mug full of coffee in her belly—isn’t caffeine supposed to make people happier?
Or at least more alert and wide awake?
“You don’t have to keep an eye on me. All I said was he is too good-looking and handsome…”
“Too good-looking and handsome for what? Fidelity? Loyalty? Do you look at me and think the same thing?” I shoot her a megawatt grin aimed to charm and resume unpacking my things. Her eyes trail to the duffle bag resting on the kitchen table and she scowls again.
“Hey, easy on the unpacking. We haven’t resolved the living situation yet.”
I laugh. “Let me make one thing clear; I’m a super chill dude. Easygoing. Calm and collected. I’m thinkin’ maybe you should try acting the same way—you know—like an adult and not an immature high school student who gets squeamish at the idea of being in the same room with a guy.” I refuse to look at her. “I’m not going to try anything, I’m going to keep my hands to myself. Are you the type of girl who giggles when a guy says something flirtatious? Because if that’s the case you really should grow up.”
Her mouth falls open wider than it was before.
I smirk. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“Are you implying the reason I don’t want to share a camper with you is because I am immature?”
I nod. “That’s exactly what I’m implying. You’re a big girl, put on your big girl panties and deal with the situation. If you go out there and complain to your best friend that you have to share a room with me, you’re gonna come off as being really ungrateful. More ungrateful than you actually sound, and I have a feeling you wouldn’t want Mia to think that, would you?”
Juliet narrows her eyes in my direction, steam practically rising out of her nose. “They told me over and over what a nice guy you are.”
“So now I’m not a nice guy because I refuse to kowtow to you? That because you’re telling me to leave, I should leave? Now you one hundred percent sound spoiled.” I pause. “Where do you suppose I should sleep? On the ground outside, in front of the door? Or maybe a hammock in a tree? Or wait—how about I go on down to Cabin Four and see if they’ll harbor me? Newsflash: the place is booked solid.”
Juliet’s nostrils flare. “You’ve called me spoiled twice and I’m offended by that. You shouldn’t make me feel like shit because I’m hesitant to share a room with a complete stranger.”
“Out of everything I just said, that’s your takeaway?” I have no intention of standing here bickering. It’s a gorgeous day and the sun is out. Plus, Thad and I managed to score a boat for tomorrow and we have that to look forward to.
I click my tongue. “Sounds to me like you don’t trust your friend’s judgment. She has met me dozens of times and trusts me with you.”
For the briefest of seconds Juliet hangs her head and shoulders in shame and I can see the regret washing over her. The moment lasts in the blink of an eye, over and done with, in a flash, and before I know it, she’s huffing out loud.
Squaring her shoulders, she looks me dead in the eye.
“Fine. We’ll share this camper—but keep your mitts off of me. Don’t get any ideas.”
I’d love to throw a barb back at her in the form of chuckling, but fight the power—the truth is, I think Juliet is pretty darn adorable. I happen to love the fact that she’s outspoken and telling me what’s on her mind and is far from shy.
It’s an attractive quality that I respect and wish more women were like her.
“We haven’t even started the day; let’s not get off on the wrong foot. Want to start over?” I hold my hand out as an offering, expecting her to take it and shake it.
She stares down. “What’s that?”
“It’s my hand?” She has me doubting myself.
“What’s it doing?”
“Waiting for you.”
Juliet slaps it, in a pancake low five, scooting around me. “Happy now?”
“Not really—I was looking for a handshake, so we can seal the deal.”
“What deal?”
“Fresh start.”
She hums, setting her coffee mug on the counter in the kitchenette, letting herself into the bathroom and closing the door behind her. Two seconds later, she sticks her head back out.
“There’s no fan in here.” It’s an announcement filled with dismay.
“So?”
Juliet watches me pointedly—so pointedly, I get uncomfortable. “Sooo….”
“Sooo…” I repeat in the exact same tone and inflection.
This is a fun game.
Juliet blinks; clears her throat.
“Am I supposed to know what’s going on right now?” Because I don’t. I’m a guy and she’s giving me way too much credit. The last time I read minds was never.
“I need to use the bathroom.”