Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
I nod my gratitude and place the order for four different pastries for Ruby and me to share. If she ever shows up.
“This place is great. Not for my ass, but my tastebuds totally appreciate it.”
Maven smiles and reaches for the familiar pink box with brown writing and logo on top, filling it with my order. “Thank you for saying so.”
I pay for my coffee and about two thousand calories worth of sugar and butter and flour and find a seat near the window to I can keep an eye out for Ruby.
Ten minutes later and twenty minutes late, Ruby finally breezes into the bakery, a fast-food coffee cup in her hand.
“Sorry I’m late, Kels. I woke up late, and the drive-thru line was ridiculous. Oh, are those for me?”
She reaches for the box, and I pull it just out of reach with a smirk. “Why do you have that crappy coffee when you know the good stuff is here?”
“I told you. I just got up. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“Why’d you wake up so late?”
Ruby is as reliable as a clock, never late unless the world is crumbling down around her, and as far as I can tell, the world is still standing.
She shrugs. “Late night.”
“At the office?”
Her cheeks turn an astonishing shade of red, and I grin. “No, not at the office.”
“Interesting,” I say around a laugh. “Who is he? Where did you meet him, and most importantly, was he worth the risk of not getting one of these pastries?”
Ruby arches a brow in my direction, a small smile forming at the corners of her thick lips.
“That depends, are one of those pastries filled with Bavarian cream?”
“Am I your best friend?”
Ruby is as predictable with her pastry of choice as she is with her reliability. A simple girl, she likes Bavarian cream donuts with a thin layer of chocolate ganache.
“His tongue was worth being late. His cock was an acceptable backup to his mouth. Happy?”
Ruby lunges for the box without waiting for me to answer as she claims her donut. “What about you and the sexy biker? What’s going on?”
At the mention of Coop, a dreamy smile forms on my face and heat fills my body. “After you dropped me off, we ended up at his place for a few hours.”
“Hours?” She purrs the question, and I laugh.
“Oh, yeah. Coop is not a three-minute man, that’s for damn sure.”
Because we’re besties, I give her a detailed description of my afternoon with Coop.
“The sex was hot, Ruby. Like hot enough that even McKenna couldn’t ruin my post-orgasmic high, no matter how hard she tried.”
Ruby blinked. “What does McKenna have to do with anything? Cockblocking again?”
I roll my eyes at the mention of my sister.
“In a way, yes. Coop walked me to the front door. Can you believe it?” I still can’t believe it. “He laid a hotter than sin kiss on me right there at the front door. It was the kind of kiss that feels like something more than a great fuck, you know?”
Ruby leans in with a wide grin. “Really?”
I nod. “And during one hell of a goodbye kiss, my cockblocking sister yanked the door open, and we would have fallen in if not for Coop’s strong arms and quick reflexes.”
Ruby fans her face and shakes her head. “He sounds even hotter than the night you met him. Let me guess. Kenna reminded you that your parents would never, ever, in a billion years let you date him?”
“No,” I sigh. “She called him a lowlife and threatened to tell if I didn’t stop seeing him.”
“Bitch,” she snarks and takes an angry bite of her donut. “Is this guy just a fuck? A fun time? Or is he more?”
“I don’t know, Rubes.” I can’t answer that question within me, never mind giving my best friend an answer. “He’s not what I thought he was. I mean he is a biker and probably a criminal and all, but he’s also a nice guy with manners. It’s like being a biker is his job.”
That sounds stupid, I know, but that’s how it feels.
Ruby nods and sips her still piping hot coffee as she takes me in, studying me as if this is the first time she’s ever seen me.
“You like him,” she declares with confidence. “If you like him, who gives a shit what anyone else thinks?”
I sigh and acknowledge the truth of her words.
“Sounds good in theory, but I still live with my parents, and there’s no way in hell I can date a thirty-year-old biker without consequences from Daddy. Mom definitely won’t give a shit.”
She shrugs off my words with a dismissive wave of her hands. “Your trust fund kicked in on your birthday, use that to get a little bit of independence for yourself, and fuck your dad’s opinion. Not that he can talk while your mom traipses around Europe with every hot Spaniard who smiles at her.”