Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 133127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
“Jesus.” He picks up another slide and puts it under the microscope. “Why is Simon calling your mother now?”
“Because my parents love him, and his mother and father have become best friends with my mother and stepfather.”
Rourke scowls. “It’s just weird.”
“I know.” I blow out a deep breath. “And fucking annoying.”
“Did you call Brock this morning?”
“No.” I drop into my seat. “And I’m not going to. I’m not getting railroaded by him, either.” I turn on my computer and wait for it to boot up.
“Hey.” I hear a familiar voice over my shoulder, and I smile. “How’s my favourite sister?”
I smile as Peter walks into the lab. “Hello.”
He turns his attention to Rourke. “Hey, Rourke.” He smiles at everyone around us and waves.
“Got time for a coffee?” he asks.
“I can’t. I just had a break.” An idea comes to me and I narrow my eyes. “Has Mum sent you in here to talk to me?”
He smirks. “She may have called me at six in the morning to tell me you’ve lost your mind and that I need to speak to you urgently.”
I groan out loud. “Oh, for God’s sake.” I slam the folder across to the other side of my desk. “She’s a damn busy body, and she needs to mind her own business.”
Pete chuckles.
“What did you say to her?” I snap.
He holds his hands up in front of him, sensing my frustration. “Just that I would check on you.”
“Checked.” I roll my eyes. “Now, I’m very busy and I have to get back to work. You should go.”
He leans onto my desk with his behind. “Who’s this guy that you’re seeing?”
“Oh God, not you, too?” I begin to hit the keys on my computer with force. Why is everyone so fucking annoying?
“What?” He smiles innocently.
“I’d be careful if I were you,” Rourke mutters as he studies his specimen. “She’s in full bitch mode today.”
I glare at Rourke and he withers, wisely choosing to go back to his microscope.
“I’m just seeing someone casually. It’s nothing serious. It’s just a guy I met at the gym.”
“Okay.” He stands and smirks at Rourke. “My job here is done. Information will be reported.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re as bad as Simon, running to Mum all the time.”
He chuckles. “Nobody’s as bad as Simon.” He shakes his head as he walks out of the office. “He’s got her on speed dial.”
I walk to the bus stop, deep in thought. I haven’t heard from Brock today and it makes me wonder what my mother said to him last night. The poor bastard. He didn’t ask to be brought into all this shit with my ex and his little fan club. I’ll call him when I get home. I lean on the side of the shelter, take my phone out and scroll through it. A message pops up from Brock. I smile and click it open.
BROCK: You look gorgeous today.
Pink is your colour.
I smile and frown. How does he know I’m wearing pink? I glance up and there, across the road, he’s standing, leaning against his parked car. He’s wearing blue jeans, a white T-shirt, and his dark, messed up hair and sexy smile make my heart flutter in my chest. My phone beeps again.
BROCK: Need a ride?
I smile and make my way over.
“Hi,” I breathe.
“Hi.” His playful eyes hold mine. He has that look about him, the one that talks to my lady parts. No, actually, it doesn’t talk. It conquers them and drags them back to his cave, neanderthal style.
I smile as the energy swirls between us. It feels like I haven’t seen him in forever. “You didn’t call me today.
“You seemed like you needed some space.”
“Not from you.”
He takes my hand in his and pulls me close, wrapping his big arms around me. I close my eyes as he holds me tight. I don’t think there is a better feeling than being in his arms.
“Do you want to go and get something to eat?”
I smile up at him. “Actually, I would like to fuck, but we can eat first, I suppose.”
He chuckles and throws me a sexy wink. “Good plan.” He opens the car door for me and I climb in, smiling to myself. I turn into a different person when I’m with him. I would never have said something that suggestive to Simon.
Brock starts the car, and ten minutes later we are sitting in a Mexican restaurant. Mariachi music is being piped throughout the garden courtyard, and there are beautiful fairy lights strung out overhead to create a magical feel.
It’s a warm summer night, and for the first time in two days, I feel relaxed
“What will it be?” the cute waiter asks us, armed with his notepad and pen.
Brock gestures to me and I frown as I peruse the menu. “Can I have a salted margarita in a martini glass, and the nachos, please?”