Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“We’re still best friends,” the man to my side unexpectedly insists.
Well, would you look at
He can talk.
“We’re just…taking our time with the whole thing.”
“Noted,” Aviva sweetly states, most likely mentally scribbling down the observation, “but remember that engaging in something as simple as a kiss can trigger the release of those powerful hormones and also have great neuro benefits too.”
“Hey, isn’t that why you put a hunk of butter in your coffee a few minutes ago?” Blu begins, words bouncing in a taunting fashion. “To help with brain shit? Maybe you should just kiss Arley more often.”
The glare he’s given from me is easily ignored due to Slater lowering his cup alongside his tone. “You don’t think I kiss my woman enough?”
“I know you don’t kiss your woman enough,” he impishly pokes.
“You can’t actually know that,” I promptly defend.
Blu tips his head his snickering girlfriend’s direction. “Science says otherwise.”
“You’re wrong, Little Boy Blu.” Slater argues, arm sliding around my waist to emphasize his point. “I handle mine.”
“Oh yeah?” He torments further. “Then prove it, Wahl.”
Really?!
This is how we’re gonna have our first kiss?
A show and tell to a school yard bully I will so not be letting have any more cake!
“With. Pleasure.”
I watch the two dark denim shaded words aggressively stab the air before refocusing on the man now pulling me closer.
Curling his grip possessively on my hip.
Lowering his mouth toward mine with what appears to be confidence.
If it wasn’t for the fact, I could hear his unsteady breathing and feel the slight tremble in his system each time he closes more distance, I would declare I was the only one a bit nervous about crossing a line we haven’t crossed yet.
One that once we do cross it, there’s no coming back from.
I mean once you kiss your best friend you can’t unkiss them.
You can’t just pretend that you don’t know how they taste.
Or how soft their lips are.
Or how deliriously slow their tongue moves against yours.
An anxious, needy whimper mindlessly escapes regarding the latter prompting Slater to harshen his grasp and drop his mouth at a faster velocity. My heart furiously pounds against my ribcage like a bass drum, refusing to let me shy away from the rhythm. A single brush is gently executed, clearly meant to be a warmup note, yet rather than advance to the next line in the hypnotic melody, our succession of romantic tone is broken by the blaring ding of my cell. Our frames instantaneously split, an action that leaves behind sexual tension and disappointment alike.
“Sorry,” I sheepishly apologize to him while retrieving the device from my pocket. “It’s probably just work.”
Slater slowly nods his understanding.
“Most likely Melissa wondering what time I’ll be in and if she needs to make a coffee run or if I want an in-house cappuccino.”
The corner of his lip initially kicks upward; however, the second it’s revealed otherwise, there’s no denying the blatant shift in demeanor.
How his arm falls back to his side.
How he steps away to actively create space between us.
Harv: My office is ready.
Harv: I can’t wait to see you.
“Everything okay?” Blu cautiously probes.
“Is it not work?” Aviva joins the search for information directly on his heels.
“No, it’s definitely work,” I enthusiastically proclaim to the crowd.
“Why don’t I go ahead and grab the food that’s stayin’ warm in the oven while everyone goes and sits down at the table?” Slater clears his throat and offers me a forced, cordial grin. “You too, Arlette. I can take it from here.”
Choosing the responsible choice not to make a scene in front of other people is what leads to me spinning on my heels and following behind our friends while internally humming the all too haunting lyrics from one of my favorite Avril Lavigne songs.
Why do I suddenly get the feeling she isn’t the only one not getting a happy ending?
Chapter 11
Arley
Slater opens the passenger door to his truck for me in silence.
Complete and total silence.
And not the comfortable type that’s there because you’ve just evolved to that level of communicating.
No.
The painful type that makes the cramps I had last week feel like a fucking all-expense paid cruise to the Bahamas.
Which I don’t know if I could do but part of me wants to try.
That’s the weird thing about getting a little too close to abruptly meeting death.
Late at night when you can’t sleep, your entire existence plays back through your mind like an action movie you didn’t ask to return to theaters for an encore showing.
Especially when you haven’t exactly lived.
It’s wild to realize I’ve somehow accomplished so much and so very little at the same time.
Travel out of this state?
Barely.
Most of it’s been for work and rarely did I leave my hotel room for anything other than the conferences or meetings.
Hell, I haven’t even gone to see my parents’ place out in Hawaii.