Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Not even a minute later, my phone vibrates.
Dario: I’m clean. Are you on birth control?
Eden: Yes.
Dario: I’ll make sure to carry condoms for the next time.
A chuckle escapes me.
Eden: You assume there will be a next time.
Dario: You blew my mind. There will definitely be a second…third…fourth…fifth…etc.
Eden: It all depends on how the date goes.
Dario: Then I’ll just have to impress you.
After messaging Dario, I feel a little better, and while I do my work, I keep replaying the night over and over in my mind.
The sex was hot and emotional, which is something I haven’t experienced before. I’m used to quick fucks with men who don’t care whether I orgasm.
Jesus, Dario didn’t even have to try. Just having him inside me was enough to make me come.
I can still feel his hands roaming my body. I can still taste him. I can still smell his scent on me.
And now I’m getting hot and bothered again.
With a smile playing around my mouth, I keep thinking about Dario until I’m done with my work. After putting away the cleaning cart and equipment, I go to the locker room, where I take off the apron and cap.
I check my locker for my bag only to remember it was stolen.
Shit.
My apartment’s keys were in the bag.
I slam the locker shut, and as I walk to the exit, I realize I don’t have money for the subway.
Feeling miserable, I stop by Quincy’s desk and say, “I hate asking, but can I borrow ten dollars? I’ll pay you back tonight.”
“Sure.” He digs the bill out of his wallet, and I take it with a grateful smile.
“Be careful on your way home.” He says the same thing every morning because the streets aren’t the safest at two am.
“I will,” I reply, shooting him a smile. “Thanks for the money.” I walk to the side door and wait for Quincy to buzz me out.
A blast of chilly air slaps me right in the face, and I huddle into my coat as I walk in the direction of the subway.
Now that I’ve left work, the bubble I was caught in pops, and I realize how stupid I was to have sex with Dario. I’m not so sure going on a date with him will be a good idea.
What if he wants more, and things get serious between us? What if he finds out I’m nothing but a poor girl from the wrong side of the city?
I seriously doubt he’s going to want to keep seeing me. Things like that only happen in the movies.
But maybe…?
I shake my head, and glancing up and down the street, I quickly cross to the other side before I take the steps down to the subway.
Even though it’s two-thirty in the morning, there are still people around. Everyone looks tired, and it makes the atmosphere somber.
It takes another forty-five minutes before I reach my apartment, and knowing the window by the fire escape is nailed shut, I have no choice but to wake up Tyrone.
I head into the building, and as I take the stairs up, I dial Tyrone’s number.
His tone is groggy with sleep as he answers, “What happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. My bag was stolen, and I can’t get into my apartment. Can I crash on your couch?”
“Of course.”
Just as I reach the third floor, Tyrone’s front door opens, and I walk inside. I wait for him to lock behind us before I move closer and plant my head against his chest while wrapping my arms around him.
“I need a hug,” I mutter as tears threaten to overwhelm me.
I’m so tired.
Tyrone rubs a comforting hand up and down my back for a while before he says, “Get some sleep, baby girl. When the hardware store opens, I’ll get a new lock for your door and change it.”
Pulling away, I force a smile to my face. “Thanks, Tyrone. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
A fatherly smile curves his lips up. “Luckily for you, you’ll never have to find out. I plan on sticking around for a long time.”
“You better.”
I walk to the couch and kick off my sneakers before lying down. A few seconds later, Tyrone places two blankets over me.
He presses a kiss to the side of my head, then murmurs, “Get some sleep.”
When he walks back to his bedroom, I say, “Tyrone.”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“Love you too, baby girl.”
When I see Yukhaejang, the restaurant where I’m meeting Dario, I stop walking.
I glance up and down the street for the R8 I’ve seen him drive, but the car isn’t parked anywhere.
Pulling my phone out, I check the time. It’s almost six, but there’s no way I’m going into the restaurant only to be stood up.
I wait a few minutes, and when six comes and goes and there’s no sign of Dario’s car, a weird feeling sinks into my stomach.