Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 97767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Why should I?
I presented her with a challenge; so by the time I’m dressed and pulling my phone out of my bag, I’ve already got a message drafted in my head:
Miss me yet?
Not very clever, but no one has ever accused me of being a poet.
Hitting send before I can overthink it, I shove my phone back in my pocket like it’s burning a hole there. The guys are still lingering near the locker room doors, talking about grabbing food, but I wave off their invitations, citing an excuse about needing to head home to help Nova.
Truth is, I’ve got no plans other than replaying the last two days in my head and wondering how the hell I ended up here: nearly obsessed with a woman completely out of my league.
Me? I’ve got one foot out the door, my mind already miles away, wondering what kind of witty, sassy, flirty thing Austin is going to say back.
Sliding into my truck, I dig my phone out of my duffle and check for a notification, wondering what kind of witty, sassy, flirty thing Austin is going to respond with.
Nothing.
I don’t know why I thought she’d respond immediately—as she so eloquently pointed out, she’s got a career. A life. Unlike me, who spends his days practicing a sport. Working out. Conditioning. In rehab or recovery.
Sigh.
Finally the phone buzzes. Lights up my cupholder. My pulse kicks up as I grab it, already grinning like a damn fool.
Her reply is short, simple:
Austin: Don’t flatter yourself.
Austin: Are you flirting with me?
Gio: Yes.
Gio: When am I NOT flirting with you?
I glance out the windshield at the now empty parking lot.
It’s quiet, save for the occasional car passing on the main road, but my mind is buzzing. I should probably head home, grab something to eat, but the thought of putting the conversation on pause for the next half hour while I drive into the city bums me out.
Austin: Valid point.
Gio: Have you given any thought to my proposal?
I type another message and delete it.
Twice.
Austin: I mean—you want me to come to games… but I’m almost always at the games to begin with, so…
Gio: No. In your special seats.
Austin: Those special seats are your SISTER’S.
Gio: Nova has those seats because of me. Let’s not kid ourselves, she’s happy to share.
Austin: So what I hear you saying is—not only do I have to show up, I have to sit in the SAME seat???
Gio: Yes. And bring the sign heckling me, and wear the same outfit.
Austin: Okay, now you’re acting superstitious.
Gio: Not superstitious. Routine.
Austin: Same thing!!!!
Gio: It’s not the same thing! It’s science.
Austin: Science?
Gio: Yes. Cause and effect. You show up in the same spot, wearing the same outfit, holding the same sign, and I win. That’s hard data, professor.
Austin:
Gio: Don’t roll your eyes at me through the phone. I can feel it.
Austin: Good. Then you can feel me telling you how ridiculous you are.
Gio: You say ridiculous, I say irresistible.
Austin: No comment.
I don’t want to come off like some guy who’s desperate for attention—but here I am, sitting in my truck like a complete idiot, hanging on every damn word.
Admit it, Gio. You’re whipped.
The thought hits hard, and I let out a low laugh. I am, aren’t I? Sitting here waiting for her to text back, smiling at my phone like some lovesick teenager.
It’s embarrassing.
"Christ," I mutter, running a hand through my damp hair. "What the hell are you doing, man?"
But I know what I’m doing. I’m falling for her—I must be. Austin isn’t like anyone else I’ve met. She’s sharp, confident, and unimpressed by all the usual shit that usually impresses the ladies, like my money and clout.
Gio: Alright, let’s cut to the chase—are you coming to my game or what? I’m dying here.
Austin: I haven’t given it any thought…
The biggest lie I’ve heard her tell, to date. And I’ve only known her for a matter of days.
Gio: You owe me ten dollars for that little white lie.
Austin: Ten dollars?! Whoa.
Gio: I said what I said. Any time you tell a fib, you pay up.
Austin: What about YOU!?
Gio: I haven’t lied to you, but sure—if that will make you feel better, agreed.
Austin: That is the LEAST interesting way to make someone “put their money where their mouth is.”
Gio: Did you have something better in mind? Like, every time I catch you in a lie, you owe me _______. Fill in the blank.
Austin: Lap dance?
Austin: KIDDING.
Gio: No take backs!
Austin: I take it back! LOL I was kidding
Gio: It’s in writing, sorry.
Austin: I was just providing an example of more interesting ways to win a bet!!!
Gio: We’re not betting! Not what that was, but I get what you’re saying and I love where your mind went. Keep up the good work. Question: do you plan on lying to me on a regular basis?