Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28686 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 143(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28686 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 143(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
"Story of my life." The words are out before I can stop myself, and I can't help wincing at how terribly emo I sound. "Sorry. Ignore that, please—-"
"What are the other things you're unsure of?"
"I just asked you to ignore that," I exclaim.
"Ignoring things isn't one of my talents, I'm afraid."
"But rudeness is?"
"I prefer...roguish."
God, he's impossible, and even worse, I'm having a hard time keeping myself from smiling.
"It's always easier to talk to strangers," he says suddenly. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that?"
I shake my head.
"It's true, though."
"Of course you'd say that."
"Come on," he says cajolingly. "What's there for you to lose?"
"A lot."
His brows shoot up, and I realize I've done it again. If there's anything I dread more than the C-word, then it's the E-word. There's nothing I find more appalling than being emo, but...isn't that the whole point of this trip as well?
Eat Pray Love is just one giant emo fest, and if I want to carve a path of self-discovery the way Julia Roberts did, then...
"I don't know what I want to do with my life," I blurt out.
"And you have a deadline for that?"
I expel a sound of frustration. "You know what I mean."
"And I think you also know what I mean," he says equably.
I suppose I do, but...it's different for him. One look at Wyoming Keanu, and I know he already has things figured out. He knows what he'll be doing until his 101st birthday, and while I'm happy for him, that just makes me feel like I suck even more. I don't even know what I'm going to do in the next hour—-
"Do you know Stan Lee?"
The question throws me for a loop, and I look at him, confused. "Not personally, no, but I know of him."
"Then there you go."
"I'm sorry, but you've totally lost me."
"Stan Lee was in his late thirties when he hit it big with Fantastic Four."
Hearing Wyoming Keanu use a Marvel analogy is just so unexpected I find myself fighting off another smile.
"And Vera Wang—-"
I can't help laughing now. "Seriously?"
"I'm not making any of this up—-"
"I k-know you're not, b-but..." I try to finish, but I'm laughing too hard to be coherent. This really isn't good, but I just can't help it. Wyoming Keanu almost seems to have a secret key to my funny bone, and I need to clear my throat several times before I can finally start speaking again. "I'm sorry. "I just never expected a macho guy like you to even know who Vera Wang is."
A moment passes, and then he says, "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For thinking I'm macho."
Oh my God, this guy is totally killing me with his lines, and that is so not good—-
"By the way..."
I stare at him warily, wondering if he's about to threaten my heart again with another killer line.
"You never told me your name."
I breathe a sigh of relief. Oh thank God. Something prosaic to talk about, finally, and I'm just so grateful I happily give my name up. "It's Raffi."
"Just Raffi?"
"Short for Serafina."
"Much better."
The words startle a smile out of me. "That's kinda telling, don't you think?" I shift in my seat to look at Wyoming Keanu, thinking I'd tease him about being old-fashioned—-
Shit.
I quickly look away before the heat in his eyes has me doing something stupid. I just don't understand this guy. He's Wyoming Keanu, for God's sake, while I'm...well...I'm the type of girl guys like to hang out rather than make out with. I bring the big O to ordinary, and yet I just caught him staring at me like he's been eye-fucking me this entire time. Is it because there's a shortage of females in Wyoming or...wait a minute.
I think I finally get why he's acting like this, and I turn to him right away, saying, "I think I should make something clear."
"I'm listening."
I clear my throat, and then I say as firmly as I can, "I Am Not Easy. Okay?"
Silence.
"I know it's hard to believe when it seems like I've come on to you first, telling you you're handsome and...and macho, but you shouldn't really read anything into it."
"I shouldn't?"
"You can feel flattered if you want."
"I can?"
"I mean, I don't normally say things like that."
"You don't?"
I open my mouth to answer when it suddenly hits me. I look at him suspiciously, and as if sensing my gaze, Wyoming Keanu also turns my way...with a sexy little smirk playing over his lips.
"Jerk!" I sock his shoulder hard even as a helpless laugh bubbles past my lips. I can't believe it took me so long to realize he was letting the whole conversation play out just to enjoy the sight of me squirming.
"You're Chief of Police," I say chidingly. "You're not supposed to act like a jerk."
"You're probably right," he agrees. "But since I'm off duty right now..."
His tone lowers a notch, and I manage to make myself scowl even as my whole body feels like it's on fire. "Will you quit that?" I grumble. "I mean it when I said—-"