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)
I do not believe that for one second. “That is such bullshit.”
She would find a way to torture me regardless.
Her laughter has finally subsided, but there’s still a bright, infectious smile on her face.
And even with her ridiculous, not-cute dog in the frame, I can’t bring myself to look away from her.
“It’s not!” she argues, though the grin on her face gives her away.
“If you had texted me first, I could’ve prepared. Moved Gio off the pillow so you didn’t have a full-blown meltdown.”
The fact that she keeps calling the dog Gio is killing me.
Not even softly.
A stab to the heart.
“A meltdown? That is not what this is!” I protest too much, my voice cracking slightly at the end. Great. It’s exactly the tone of having a meltdown.
“Oh no?” she teases, tilting her head as she adjusts the dog so he’s perched even higher on her pillow, his big, unblinking eyes staring directly into the camera. “You’re glad you called, though, aren’t you?”
“I’m regretting it more by the second,” I moan.
“Stop! You love it,” she says smugly, her eyes sparkling with delight. “And don’t worry, he’ll start loving you, too.”
I glance back at the screen, where Gio continues to stare at me with an intensity that could melt steel—or summon demons. I can’t decide which.
“I don’t want him to love me,” I whisper, not wanting the dog to hear me.
“Too late,” she says with a soft laugh, scratching the dog’s bony back. “You’re part of the family now. Gio adopts people whether they like it or not.”
Her laugh is so…cute.
So fucking adorable and delightful and contagious I find myself joining in, the tension from earlier fading completely. For a moment, it’s just us, trading jabs and laughter like we’ve been doing this forever.
“Admit it; you’re just jealous Gio is better looking than you.”
I gape at her, utterly aghast. “I cannot believe you just said that.”
“You’re so dramatic,” she says, wiping her eyes. “It’s like you’ve never seen a Chinese Crested before.”
“I’ve seen pictures. They burned my eyes.”
Austin scowls. “You are officially uninvited to our house.”
“I was never planning to visit!” I volley back, though we both know that’s not true. I am totally planning on visiting…
She smirks, tilting her head like she’s daring me to take it back. “We’ll see about that.”
The thought of stepping into her house and coming face-to-face with that dog sends a shiver down my spine—but not enough to keep me from wanting to see her again.
In person.
Somehow, her ridiculous humor, paired with her obvious affection for her creepy little pet, only makes her more endearing.
Funny – check.
Sexy – check.
Has her own career – check.
Quirky in all the best ways – check, checkity, check, check.
I lean back into the couch, staring at her through the screen as she scratches The Other Gio behind his mangy ears, her laughter softening into a smile that’s way too distracting for my own good. My thoughts start to stray, and before I can stop myself, a horrifying scenario pops into my head: Shit. What if we get to the point where we’re having sex and The Other Gio is on the bed?
The image is so vivid, so disturbing I actually grimace.
My shoulders shudder involuntarily, and Austin catches it immediately.
“What was that?” she asks, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “What’s going on in that overactive brain of yours?”
She already knows me so well.
“Nothing,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “Absolutely nothing.”
Her brow furrows, and she leans closer to the camera, like she’s trying to read my mind through the screen.
“Liar. What are you thinking about?”
You.
Me.
Sex.
The dog.
“Nothing important,” I insist, though the thought is stuck in my head and I know it’s going to haunt me for days.
“Bullshit,” she says, grinning as she props her chin on her hand.
“Come on, spill. Is it about Gio? Because if you’re still obsessing over him, I think you owe him an apology.”
My lips clamp shut.
Lips open. A gust of word vomit spews from my mouth, “If he ever sets foot on a bed I’m in, I’m leaving. No questions asked.”
“Oh. My. God,” she whispers, her voice dripping with amusement. “Are you imagining him watching us do it?”
“No,” I lie, far too quickly. “Absolutely not.”
“You totally are!” she exclaims, bursting into laughter. “You’re picturing us having sex with the dog on the bed!”
I shake my head but it’s pointless.
The damage is done.
It’s official: she can read my mind.
“I am not picturing that,” I argue weakly, my face hot enough to fry an egg. “And please stop laughing.”
My bruised ego can’t take it anymore.
“And let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I mutter, rubbing the back of my neck. “We haven’t even been on a date yet, so we can’t be having sex on your bed.”
That finally slows her laughter, though her grin stays firmly in place.
“Are you already planning the logistics of our future?”