Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 109096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
He laughs, nervously scratching the back of his dark-haired head. "I figured it would be. But you're cool with that, right?"
Robin knows I'm nowhere near cool with that. Not that nudity is the problem. No, it's being exposed – all my scars plainly visible for the viewer. But I find myself nodding now, as if it isn't a problem at all.
"It was actually kind of fun," I admit. "And really exhausting. I must've been there for five hours or even more. Two to do the makeup and hair, and then another three of shooting."
"So, what's Santino like?"
"He's..." I struggle to find the right words. "Intense. Interesting." Freaking hot as sin, I want to add, but I force myself not to. Although Robin knows me so well, I'm pretty sure he can tell what I was going to say next. "I'm glad I went, anyway. Thanks for making me go."
"You're welcome," Robin beams before wiggling his brows at me. "Heard the guy asked you out."
I groan. "Katya really can't keep her mouth shut, can she?"
"Nope." My brother's grinning from ear to ear. "So, how'd you turn down this one?"
Despite the scar, I've been asked out a fair number of times in the past years since I moved out to LA. But I almost always turn down the men who ask me. After a few disastrous experiences – including one where my date turned out to be a plastic surgeon and spent half of dinner explaining how he could fix my scar – I've pretty much sworn off dating altogether.
"I didn't," I finally say. "We're going out tomorrow."
"What?" Robin's mouth gapes open. "You agreed to go out with him?"
"Why not?" I shrug weakly. "I haven't been on a date in almost two years. Figured I might as well try again before I fully commit to being a green-fingered spinster."
"Cute." Robin stares me down. "So what are you doing on your date?"
"Dinner," I blurt out, my cheeks flushing a deep shade of red as I feel his penetrating smile on me.
"Dinner," he repeats. "Wow. You must really like this guy."
Robin knows as well as I do, I never do dinner dates, because I hate eating in front of other people. It's always awkward, and I don't want to deal with their prying questions about why I'm just picking at the food on my plate and not actually eating anything.
"What are you wearing?" my brother asks next and I shrug.
"I don't know. The usual?"
"Nuh uh, no way." I groan as I look into his determined eyes. "Why don't you borrow something from Elise? I'm sure she'd be happy to lend you something, and you're the same size, too."
We're only the same size because his tiny girlfriend starves herself on a daily basis to fit into a size zero. But then again, am I not doing the same thing? Even though it's for different reasons, I'm no better than Miss Instagram model/resident bitch Elise Howard.
"Fine," I finally groan. Elise will fucking love this. For some unknown reason, she's obsessed with me. She constantly offers to do my hair and makeup. To take me shopping, to get my nails done. I've fought it off successfully for the past year she's been with my brother, but I guess this is my freaking breaking point. She'll be thrilled.
"Perfect," Robin says. "I'll shoot her a quick text to let her know."
He pulls out his phone, narrowing his eyes at the screen.
"Trouble in paradise?"
"She's texted me twenty-seven times in the past ten minutes," Robin groans.
"God, how do you put up with it?" I shake my head. "She's so possessive. It’s just as well she likes me. What the hell does she do when you're around other women you're not freaking related to?"
"You don't wanna know," Robin mutters, his fingers busy as he types a reply. For the next few minutes, he glares at his phone. "She's not replying."
"Maybe she's driving," I offer, which is a lame excuse, because we both know Elise texts while driving. "I'm sure she'll get back to you soon."
Just then, the sound of the doorbell rings out through the room. We exchange glances and get up from the sofa, both heading for the door. I open it, and of course, Elise stands on the doorstep in one of her bubblegum pink outfits to match her Barbie car, Pepper barking his head off at us from her designer purse – no doubt another one of my brother's gifts.
"Dove!" she exclaims, giving me air kisses on both cheeks as that insufferable dog barks and barks. "So good to see you, darling."
"What are you doing here, Elise?" Robin asks before I can reply, and his girlfriend gives him an innocent look. "We agreed to meet up tomorrow, not today."
"Well, you weren't answering my texts, honeybear," Elise pouts. God, that fucking nickname. It's so hard not to laugh at my brother when she uses it. "I thought something was wrong."