Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“Oh my god, you like these?” I laugh, gesturing at the Barcalounger.
“Hell yeah,” grins Jordan. “That’s where I like to sit in my underwear while watching football.”
I laugh with mirth.
“You’re at service on Sundays. You can’t be watching football then.”
He grins.
“Ever heard of Monday Night Football? And it’s not the sport, sweetheart, it’s about drinking beer in my boxers without a care in the world.”
I giggle merrily. Holy cow, I can’t even imagine it. This guy, sitting around in nothing but underwear? It’s hot, but he also makes it sound so funny.
“Baby, do you want something to drink?” Jason asks while strolling to the refrigerator. I nod. My throat feels dry.
“Sure, what do you have?”
He grins.
“Well, how about some beer? Like Jordan mentioned, we drink while watching football. I know you’re not old enough yet, but I promise, we’ll supervise you.”
I giggle again. These guys are hilarious with awesome senses of humor.
“Sure, I’ll take a beer,” I say shyly. But then I pop up.
“Um, can I use your bathroom?”
“Sure, honey. It’s down that way,” Jason points. “The first door along the hall. Beer coming right up.”
“Okay, thanks.”
I get up from the couch and wander to the hallway, before trying a door on the right. Perfect. I enter the bathroom, switching on the light and closing the door before breathing hard. Relax, I tell myself. You’re going to be fine.
I look at myself in the mirror and nothing looks out a place. A few strands of hair have escaped out of my bun, but it looks good actually, and even a bit elegant.
But looking good isn’t enough. I need to sound good and look good.
“Pull yourself together, Mira. I know this is your first ever real date, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to have a complete and total breakdown. You’ve already spent quite a lot of time with Jordan and Jason, and you know they like you. So it’s going to be easy.”
Then I look directly in my eyes, pointing to myself.
“You can do this. Like Jessie said, be yourself because I am great, I am amazing, and I deserve this.” I stand up straight, smoothing my dress down over my body.
I’m going to make sure that tonight rocks, no matter what it takes. Opening the door, I wander back to the living room, and am overcome by savory, delicious smells. Holy cow, I can’t believe I missed this when I first walked it. There are all kinds of spices dancing around in the air, hitting my nostrils, and causing my brain to shoot pleasure signals through my body.
I wander over to where Jordan and Jason are cooking, fidgeting just a bit. There’s some pasta simmering as well as a delicious-looking tomato sauce. I think there are a few other meats and vegetables, but they are all in pots and pans.
“What are you guys making?” I ask innocently.
The men grin.
“We thought we’d go for a spaghetti dish today. We’re throwing all kinds of stuff in, though. I hope that’s okay?” Jordan smiles.
“It’s more than okay. It smells so amazing and I’m really excited to taste it.”
“Here.” Jason opens up one of the pots and quickly sticks a finger in. He offers his digit to me, holding it close-ish to my face. I look down at it, not sure what to do.
“Have a taste,” he invites.
My eyebrows go up when I realize he wants me to lick it off. I feel like it’s going to be a little weird, but then again, we’ve been putting our mouths all over one another, so I move my face closer to his hand and then wrap my lips around his pointer finger. I swirl my tongue around, getting the sauce off of his digit. There are hints of garlic and parsley from the sauce, and it tastes amazing.
I hum around his finger before licking my lips.
“That’s so good,” I comment, and it really is. I mean, it smelled absolutely incredible, so of course it would taste just as great.
I look into Jason’s eyes, and those blue eyes gleam. But he doesn’t make a move. Instead, all he says is a simple, “Thanks.”
Oh my god, the intensity in the kitchen has just gone up about ten notches. Suddenly, the heat isn’t just from the stove; it’s from me too, as my insides boil. My eyes cut to Jordan, and he’s looks like he could devour me with a spoon.
“Um, can I help?” I ask, a little shy. I grew up in a family where you always, at the very least, offer. Whenever my mom made dinner, I would go over and watch her. As I got older, she would let me assist, and I picked up a lot of tips and tricks in the kitchen that way.
Jordan’s blue eyes gleam.
“No sweetheart, just make yourself comfortable and the food will be ready soon.”