Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 132321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
“Good.”
He drifts away to take care of other patrons. I’m almost done when he returns. “So, you never said how you know Margot. You two related?”
I huff out a laugh. “No.”
“Well, I know she’s not your ol’ lady.”
I narrow my eyes. “How’s that?”
His lips twitch, like he’s having trouble keeping that smug smirk off his pretty face. “Torch asked her out and she said yes.”
The last bit of sandwich I’d been holding crumples to mush in my fist. Bread, sauce, lettuce, and chicken ooze between my fingers. “What?”
In full smirk mode now, Remy stares at the bar top and wipes a rag against the same spot over and over. “Yeah, they got to talking. Something about going to the drive-in Friday.”
The fuck they are. “Thanks for the information.” I grab the towel out of his hand and clean the chicken off my fingers.
“Don’t kill Torch,” he warns me. “He’s Eraser’s cousin.”
“I know who he is.”
“And,” he continues as if I hadn’t said anything, “we’re looking at him for treasurer of the support club. I also need him to help me run this place while Griff’s away this summer.”
“I’m not killing anyone. Like you said, she’s not my ol’ lady. She can go out with whoever she wants.” My stomach twists at the thought, threatening to reunite me with my chicken dinner for speaking such blasphemy.
I pull out my wallet and throw enough cash on the bar to cover the food and then some.
“Wait a second.” He scoops up the money. “You need change?”
“No,” I growl.
Out in the parking lot, I stare at the road that leads into Johnsonville. It’ll take longer to get to Margot’s place if I take that route. I could use the time to cool off.
She said yes to a date. Must be ready to try out all those new skills I’ve been helping her learn.
Fuck, that hurts more than getting my dick caught in my zipper.
What did I expect? I keep reminding her we’re not dating. The last time she hinted at having feelings, I ghosted her. She somehow took me back and I’m still keeping things “sex only.” I left her a fucking note instead of calling her or, I don’t know, sending her flowers or some shit. Jesus, fuck, why didn’t that occur to me?
See, I knew I wasn’t cut out to be her boyfriend. “Sex only” works for us. Why mess with it? If she wants to start fucking Torch, then I’m free to return to my parade of muffler bunnies and randoms.
Except, I don’t want to.
The weight of years of one-night stands and meaningless encounters crawls over my skin. Margot and I are more than that, aren’t we? We talk a lot. Christ, I’ve never loved listening to a woman’s voice as much as I love Margot’s.
Sex? Best I’ve ever had. Because I’ve trained her to my liking or just because we’re so compatible?
How the fuck would I know? Best is the best. Does it matter why?
I never take her anywhere or do anything fun with her. Mostly because I like the peace and quiet at her place. Just being in her presence. Does she want to do shit like go to the drive-in?
She does have that big DVD collection and a whole theater room. She must like movies. Maybe if I spent more time getting to know her instead of trying to discover all the various ways I can make her orgasm, I’d know the answer to such a simple question.
I’m in a worse mood by the time I finally approach her house. She must’ve heard me coming. I’ve just finished backing my bike into the spot I like to leave it when she steps into the parking lot in pajamas and bare feet.
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
“We need to talk.” I storm across the pavement toward her, my boots scraping over the asphalt.
“Uh, okay.” She hurries up the back steps and into the house. “Come on in. Why are you so…?” She whirls her hands around in front of her face. “So flurried?”
I stop and close the door behind me. “Flurried?”
“Flustered, hurried, angry…I don’t know!” She plucks her fingers in the air. “Your energy seems hostile.”
In an instant, my annoyance evaporates. This woman fucking slays me.
“I’m not angry or hostile,” I say.
She waves her hands in front of my body. “Sure, you’re the picture of tranquility.”
Damn right I’m not tranquil. I point to the staircase. “Get up those stairs.”
Fury flares in her eyes. “Excuse me?”
“We need to talk, and I don’t think you want anyone to overhear this conversation.”
She throws her arms out wide but backs up toward the staircase. “There’s no one else here.”
“I’m not fucking around, Margot.”
Still facing me, she works her way up the first flight of stairs backwards while I stalk her every step.
At the landing, she turns and sprints.