Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
I laugh for what feels like the millionth time today. “I do know my way around cow butts.”
“You’re a goddamn expert. And because you’re an expert, you’d get bored real quick.”
Bringing the cider to my lips, I lift a shoulder. “Maybe. Or maybe I’d still love it, despite the heat and the excessive amount of ass jokes people make when I’m around to break the ice.”
Tilting back the cup, I let the cider hit my lips. It’s hot, fragrant. Equal parts strong and sweet.
“Good?” Wyatt’s gaze flicks from my eyes to my mouth and back again.
I smack my lips. “Fall in a cup. Here.”
I pass him the cup and he takes it, rotating it in his enormous mitt of a hand so that his lips hit the same spot mine did. He didn’t do it on purpose. But a quiet yet potent rip of electricity courses through my skin nonetheless.
What I’d give to have his mouth on mine.
I am suddenly starving for this man’s touch. Any man’s touch really. Wyatt’s touch is at the top of my list, but obviously that’s not happening, so I’ll take what I can get.
Who knows when I’ll have the opportunity to satiate that hunger again? The second I’m back in Ithaca, I’ll be hitting the ground running. There won’t be time to go out or meet people. And I can’t jeopardize my career by hooking up with a colleague. I’ve also been there, done that. Got the This guy made me feel like shit T-shirt.
I either speak my mind or forever hold my peace.
Wyatt makes a shockingly sexy, deeply satisfied rumble of pleasure as he swallows the cider. “Damn, Sunshine, that’s delicious.”
You’re delicious, I think as I watch him take another long swallow before handing the cup back to me.
I tilt it back and swallow what’s left in a single audible gulp. The cider singes my tongue, the whiskey setting fire to my blood.
“I have a favor to ask.” I reach for the thermos and refill the cup, grateful for the excuse to not look at Wyatt.
“Answer’s yes.”
“Let me ask it first.”
“Answer’s still yes.”
Goddamn it, leave it to Wyatt to make me smile, despite the tightly wound feeling in my chest.
“Last night, your little trick worked—you pretending to be into me to get Beck’s attention.”
“You go home with him?”
The sharpness of Wyatt’s tone has my head snapping in his direction. His eyes are narrowed, mouth a tight line.
“No. But I—I think I could go home with someone like him if, you know…” Swallowing, I look away. Look down at the steaming cup of cider in my hand. “If I could just get out of my head a little and have fun with him. With guys in general, I mean. The way I have fun with you.”
His expression smooths ever so slightly. “You sayin’ I’m the best time you’ve ever had?”
Grinning, I lean over to gently elbow him. “I’m saying you have a way of making me feel comfortable in my own skin. I’m able to have a good time with you without overthinking things, which is what I do when I’m with other guys.”
His forehead scrunches. “What do you overthink?”
“What don’t I overthink?” I scoff. “I get so self-conscious when I’m trying to flirt. Like I can’t get out of my own way. I worry that I talk too much or not enough. Am I coming on too strong? Am I wearing the right thing? Saying the right thing? I try so hard to be what I think guys want me to be that I can’t just…be.”
“Maybe you’re hangin’ with the wrong guys, then.”
“I think I just need to take a page out of your book and learn how to let loose a little. If I could feel as comfortable around other guys as I am around you…”
“Right.” He smiles tightly. “You’d be able to have fun with them too.”
My heart dips at the emptiness of his smile. It doesn’t touch his eyes. There’s no way Wyatt is jealous because he thinks of me as a sister. Maybe it’s annoyance I see in his expression? Which I get. With any other guy, I’d immediately back down. Dash home with my tail between my legs.
But I’m determined to get my confidence back. I have to learn to stop overthinking everything, or I’m never going to have a good time with a member of the opposite sex. I’m never going to have good sex, period.
Ultimately, I’m never going to get excited about leaving Texas for New York, which would be a big fucking problem.
It’s now or never. And didn’t Wyatt already say yes? I have nothing to lose.
That’s not true, and you know it.
Shoving that thought aside, I take a deep breath. “I bet you’ve already had fifteen people ask you to go to the potluck, but of course you’re not going because you’re, well, you—”