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)
“What?” Jigsaw laughs. “No, I don’t think so.”
“It wasn’t laced with anything else?”
“No. Sparky’s a purist. He wouldn’t dare mess with nature’s harvest.” He passes me a cold can of Sprite and a blue can koozie with a crown, dollar sign, and sun with today’s date on the bottom.
“Wedding favor?” I ask, staring at the design.
Jigsaw taps the crown image. “For Lost Kings.” He moves to the dollar sign. “Teller’s symbol for the club.” Finally, he lands on the sun. “Charlotte’s nickname is ‘sunshine.’”
“Ah, clever.”
“We’re all about the symbolism, baby.” He gives me a cocky wink and smile.
Laughing, I take a sip of the soda, sighing as the cool, sweet liquid eases my dry throat. “I didn’t snore, did I?”
“No.” He hands me a plate stacked with cold cuts and a fresh, squishy roll.
I wave the condiment packages he offers away and slap a few pieces of ham and a slice of cheese on a roll. “How embarrassing. Everyone knows I got high and passed out like a nerd?”
He drills me with a hard stare. “It’s not your fault, Margot.”
“I made you miss the whole party.”
“You didn’t make me do anything.” His lips quirk. “Few people have that ability.”
“Why does it seem so much…quieter?” I glance toward the backyard but it’s only a few couples in lawn chairs talking now.
“A lot of folks went up to the clubhouse.” He lifts his chin toward the long hill stretching behind the house. “Or down to Crystal Ball and our other clubhouse.”
“Crystal Ball? The strip club?”
He lifts his eyebrows. “You know it?”
I shift my gaze to the side. “I knew someone who danced there in college.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, she didn’t stay long. It wasn’t for her.”
He nods slowly. “I’m sure a lot of girls figure out real quick it’s not just glitter and dollar bills.”
“That’s what she said.”
“Margot, be honest,” he says in a teasing voice, gaze drilling into me. “Are you the friend?”
“Me?” I gasp. “No one wants to see that.”
A frown draws his eyebrows together. “See what?” His tone’s sharp, disapproving.
“Me…like that.” I run my hands through the air in an outline of my body. “Naked,” I whisper.
He leans forward. “You’re mistaken,” he whispers back. “What about your boyfriend?”
“What boyfriend? I came with my dad today.”
“I figured that was just a business thing.” He shrugs. “You’re not seeing anyone?”
“I’m too broken for a boyfriend.” I giggle and clap my hand over my mouth. “That sounds like a song.”
He freezes and stares at me. “What did you say?”
“Broken in the s-e-x department.” I quickly look around to make sure no one overhears me. “One star, do not recommend. Boring in bed.” Is it the pot making me admit this to a guy I barely know? “Maybe I can be fixed?” I mumble the last word, as I lose my nerve. “Who knows.”
Jigsaw continues staring at me.
A hot flush of embarrassment creeps up my chest, chasing away a good portion of the pot-brownie high.
“You’re not broken, Margot,” he says through clenched teeth. “Who told you that?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“You just need to meet the right person who appreciates you.”
“But I’ll only disappoint them.” A truly awful and wonderful idea takes shape in my mind. Jigsaw’s been so kind to sit with me today. He’s patient. He said he’s not in a relationship. I’m attracted to him but we’re so opposite, there’s no chance of an attachment forming…
“Maybe you could be my tutor? You know, teach me,” I blurt out.
He sets his plate down and sits forward. “Teach you what?” His voice is low and raspy. Interested or disgusted by the idea—I can’t tell.
Realization at how stupid it was to even ask sets in, but I continue digging my awkward grave anyway. “You know…”
Jigsaw’s eyebrows crawl up his forehead. “Teach you sex?”
I wince at the outraged disbelief darkening his words and expression. I’m probably not as pretty as the kind of girls he’s used to but I’m not a complete toad, either.
“Well, yes.” This was dumb. Why did I think this was a good idea again? Can I even blame this on the pot brownie?
“How old are you?”
Is he actually considering my request?
Heat burns the tip of my nose, and spreads over my cheeks. My face must be pink enough to match my shoes by now.
“Never mind.” I pick up my plate and tear off little pieces of my roll. I’m too disgusted with myself to eat any of it, so I just end up sprinkling crumbs all over my dress.
How am I ever going to look at Jigsaw again? Maybe I’ll call Teller and ask him to send a different brother to help out from now on? The MC’s supposed to be our partner. It won’t be weird if I reach out,will it? I could start by thanking him for letting me come to his wedding. That’s normal, right?