Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
She paused, set the burger down, and stared off into space. After a moment of silence, she glanced up again, fighting tears. “Did you really mean it – that you remember everything about me?”
I nodded. “Try me.”
“Okay.” She picked up the burger again, thinking about it. “What’s my favorite Disney soundtrack?”
“Mulan. Hands down. Followed – and this is not a close second by any means – The Little Mermaid and the ’90s Beauty and the Beast. But The Little Mermaid is also far from Beauty and the Beast. The hierarchy is very clear.”
“Favorite indie crush?”
“Jake Gyllenhaal in Donnie Darko.”
“Favorite blockbuster crush?”
“Tie between ripped Dev Patel and Michael B. Jordan since his Friday Night Lights era.”
“Worst rated Batman?”
“Too easy.” I rolled my eyes. “Val Kilmer. I would’ve known that if we’d literally never met.”
She giggled around another bite, melting my fucking heart. “Why is he so bad, though?”
This.
This was what I’d missed. I’d take her wrath over her indifference, but I was really shooting for her affection.
I didn’t know what inspired me to keep trying to win her over. This wouldn’t work out.
I was too damaged. She was too guarded.
I didn’t do monogamy. She didn’t do me.
We grinned at each other like two idiots.
Despite the odds stacked against us, I still wanted a chance. I’d spent the last fifteen years ensuring I had a plan before I began anything, but just like that, I’d started pursuing this woman, who I knew would break my heart.
Or worse – set it on fucking fire.
Chapter Sixty-One
Oliver
In the hottest cinematic display since Megan Fox set fire to her tongue in Jennifer’s Body, Briar finished the burger with one giant bite that puffed up her cheeks like a chipmunk. The plate scraped against the marble countertop as she pushed it in.
“Can we borrow a few of your cars?” With a sigh, she slumped against the backrest. “I want to show the girls around.”
“Only if you don’t drive one yourself.” I noticed the swelling around her temple had died down, plus she no longer sported every shade of green and purple around it. Still, it didn’t hurt to play it safe. “You can’t drive before you get the all-clear from Doctor Cohen.”
“I feel perfectly fine.” She frowned. “Normal.”
“So happy to hear this. All the same, I’m not letting you drive without clearing it with Doctor Cohen.”
“Letting me?” Her eyebrows jumped up. Okay. Wrong choice of words. “I’m not asking for permission, Oliver.”
“I’m not giving you it, anyway, so what’s the problem?”
I was being obnoxious, I knew.
But old habits die hard, and the one thing that kept people at arm’s length from me was my tendency to say the shittiest things possible at any given moment. My every breath was designed to provoke and annoy. This especially applied to women, who often forgave my shortcomings. The words just flew out of my mouth before I could rethink them.
Her eyes resembled two giant moons, staring back at me with utter shock.
“Look.” I raised my hands in the air. “I could’ve chosen a better way to convey this …”
She pointed at the door. “Get out.”
Her friends’ heads snapped up from the loungers, swiveling to us.
I raised an eyebrow. “Technically, we are out.”
“Fine. Get in.” She shrugged. “Just stay the hell away from me.”
“It is my house.”
“It is my party, and you are not invited.”
“You cannot disinvite me from a party on my own property.”
“You’re right. I’m not disinviting you. You were never invited in the first place.” She cracked her knuckles, readying to stand. “I can escort you inside if you are so inclined.”
Where did this woman find the courage to act like G.I. Jane in a tiny bikini? I was devastatingly turned on. To the point where I worried my dick would fall off if I made any sudden moves. As it was, my erection pressed tight against the waistband of my Upland hunting pants.
Briar obviously wanted me to argue with her. I knew this, just as I knew she knew her request was unreasonable. It would be ridiculous to kick me out of my own home. At the same time, I wanted to humor her.
In thirty-three years, Briar had never gotten the chance to act up. As a child, she worked hard for crumbs of affection from her parents, which never came, anyway. She never rebelled. Never mouthed-off. Never made mistakes. Never was a kid.
In her twenties, she hustled with work and school. She never skipped a tuition payment. Never stayed out late. Never missed a work shift. Never enjoyed the thrill of making mistakes as a new adult.
Now, in her early thirties, I wanted to give this to her. To let her push the limits and show her that I’d still accept her, even if she messed up.
I shot up and raised both hands, backing away toward the doors to the living room. “I’m going, I’m going.”