Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 73756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
I did, brushing past Bourne’s hard chest as I did.
He drew in a low, shaky breath that had me pausing when I was right up against him.
I used the chair not being far enough in as my excuse to allow my backside to press against him for so long. Then, as if my body had a mind of its own and wasn’t connected to my brain in any way, I bent slightly at the waist and reached for the chair of the seat, pushing it in slightly.
While I did, I made sure to press back against Bourne.
The moment that my ass came into contact with his hips, I knew that I’d made a mistake.
Not because it didn’t feel good, but because it felt too good.
It made me realize that my attraction for Bourne wasn’t going to just go away.
Not when all it took was a brush of his hips against my backside to have me thinking all kinds of naughty things.
Too soon, he had the seat pushed in for me, and I had no other choice but to pass him and take my own seat.
I tried to dip my head to allow my face to be concealed by my hair, but Sammy’s laughter had me blinking at him in confusion.
“What?” Bourne grumbled.
He looked between the two of us, said nothing, then tipped his beer to his lips.
I was so glad that my face couldn’t be seen.
The corner we were in was dark, and thanks to all the lighting being focused on the dance floor, it meant that the particular shade of red on my face was undetectable.
“Nothing, man.” Sammy put down his beer. “Hey, I heard that you and your sister went on a blind date last week.”
I grimaced and nodded my head, remembering the blind date as if it was yesterday and not last week.
“It was awful,” I admitted. “Our blind dates ended up being twins, and all they talked about was sharing us, and all of our kids looking similar, and how cool it would be to have children that came from both of us.”
Bourne spit out his beer.
It sprayed across the table and missed hitting Sammy by sheer luck.
“You what?” he asked, a tinge of laughter filling into his voice. “You’re making that up.”
His accusations made me nearly laugh.
“Not even a little bit,” I said as I showed him the text conversation that I saved. “This was the twin that I was supposed to go on a date with. The other one was supposed to be with Dillan. But then they switched it up on us. They didn’t even tell us that we were talking to the opposite guy until Dillan accidentally stumbled onto it during dinner conversation. Erron was the banker, and Derron was the car lot owner. Dillan made a comment to Erron about a car, and he casually says that Derron was the car lot owner, not him. Then they go on about their business as if they hadn’t switched up their dates, and we hadn’t been calling them by the other brother’s name all night.”
I showed him the conversation of texts between myself and Erron.
“Who set you up on this blind date?” he asked.
I grimaced and said, “Ken. The man that does the CrossFit stuff that works with Dillan? These two twins go to his CrossFit gym. The bad thing is, I was thinking about joining that gym until I realized that they went to it.”
Sammy burst out laughing, his hand slapping down onto his thigh.
“I go to that gym. CrossFit Boomtown. It’s the fucking best. There are a set of twins that come to the earlier classes, but since I’m more of an afternoon attendee, I never see them. I’ve heard they’re dicks, though. Always fibbing on their times and scores.”
I rolled my eyes and crossed my leg over my opposite knee, unsurprised to hear this about them.
The move put my foot exceptionally close to Bourne, who didn’t seem to be bothered to have my foot touching his leg every time I bounced it, so I left it there.
Except, on the third or so such tap of my foot against his leg, he caught it in his hand and held it.
I looked over at him in shock.
His hand was around my ankle, and he was holding it in a tight grip. Not one that would hurt, but one that was clearly telling me to stop, or else.
“Sorry,” I lied. “I thought it was the chair leg.”
Lies.
He knew that it was a lie, too.
His mouth might not have put voice to the words, but his eyes took me in, and his lips formed into a small frown, as if he didn’t like the idea of me lying to him.
I looked away and took a swig of the beer that he’d handed me.
It was slightly warm, and I hated warm beer.