Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“You’re not. Remember, it wasn’t too long ago I was in the same predicament with Theo.”
“You two are way different than us.”
“How so? Two confused people with feelings you both aren’t sure what to do with? Hot, explosive sex?”
Okay, fine. She has me there. “But I never said I liked him.”
“Oh, drop the act. You don’t need to hide your feelings from me. Or is this you trying to hide them from yourself?” she asks, calling me out. I am hiding from the truth. If I don’t admit I’m falling for Tate, it won’t hurt so bad when he leaves. He told me his feelings for me were a discussion for when this job was over, but what does that truly mean? What if it’s only him humoring me? “Mindy…”
“I like him, okay? The way he makes me feel. I like our calm and our crazy. He’s frustrating and a brute, but he’s also gentle and attentive. He doesn’t feed me bullshit like other guys do. And he sees me. Me, Fay. Not the act I put on for everyone around me. And I know this is pathetic to say, and maybe it’s all in my head, but to him, I’m not just a wild porn star bartender with no respect for myself.”
“Oh, Mindy, you’ve never been that.” That’s why I love Fay. I am, but she just has too big of a heart to see my faults. “Oh, honey. Don’t cry.”
I didn’t realize I was. “Shit.” I wipe my cheeks. “Honestly, I’m just tired.”
She comes around the island and wraps her arms around me. “It’s okay to be vulnerable.”
“Ugh,” I groan. “Well, whatever it is, it’s killin’ my vibe. Can we talk about wedding stuff now? Like, how you’re gonna let me be the flower girl?”
“You’re my maid of honor. Not sure how many weddings you’ve been to, but it’s a step up from flower girl.”
“Yeah, but I want to walk down the aisle throwing shit. Sounds way cooler.”
She opens her mouth to lecture me on more wedding etiquette when the guys reappear. Theo takes in his fiancée while Tate’s gaze roams my face. “Are we walking into some sappy girl talk?” Theo asks, pulling Fay into his arms.
“Just wedding stuff. And how Mindy hasn’t given me a name for her plus-one yet. You know, Tate, if you’re free, she needs a date—”
“Fay—”
“What?”
Theo thankfully intercepts. “I think Mindy’s a big girl and can make her own decisions. Now, if you two are done, let’s eat.” Fay gives in to her hunk’s demands, and we all sit and eat the best homemade pizza known to man. The conversation is light. Wedding talk. Business. Fay and I laugh over stories from working at the bar together. We fill Tate in on how Fay and Theo met. By the time dinner is over, I’m full and a little drunk. And due to the second part, failing at keeping my attention off Tate. A few stolen glances turn into what I plan on doing to him when we get home. Wondering how he can sit there so calmly, I stretch my foot out under the table and run it up his leg, between his bulky thighs. He doesn’t flinch or move his eyes to me. I scoot farther down in my seat and caress my toes against his crotch. His pants tighten, and I feel a bit of victory at his growing erection.
After dinner, Theo places the sweetest kiss on Fay’s forehead and tells her to relax while he and Tate clear the table. Fay and I get cozy on the couch, flip through wedding magazines, and ooh and ahh over ideas.
When the men finish, they relax on the couch, discussing sports. Every so often, my eyes wander across the room, and every time, Tate’s are already on me. Our stolen glances are subtle and quick, but they pack a big punch. By the time Fay asks if anyone wants dessert, I’m doing my best fake yawn.
“Girl, I’d love to, but I’m really tired.”
“Tired? You never say no to my tarts.”
“Watching my figure.”
“You work out seven days a week.”
“Sudden allergies.” Her eyes narrow. “Well, this has been fun. We made great headway. Cannot wait for the big day!” I turn to Tate. “Let’s go. Say goodbye to your new friend.”
Theo waves me off, and I give Fay a nice squishy hug, accepting her to-go container full of tarts since she knows I’m lying through my teeth. We walk out of the penthouse and quietly wait for the elevator. When it opens, I step in, and Tate stands next to me.
As soon as the doors close, I’m pressed against the wall, and Tate’s mouth collides with mine. He lifts me up, and I hook my legs around him, dropping the tarts. My hands are in his hair while he clenches my ass. If my legs were long enough, I’d kick the emergency stop button.