Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
He made the world fall away.
And that was very, very dangerous.
Because I was pretty sure he wasn't wrong.
This wasn't over.
And there was no true way to win.
No matter which way things went, I was pretty sure we were both going to lose.
EIGHT
Wasp
"This is getting ridiculous," I told Fenway as he made a show out of snatching the hat I was trying on off my head and handing it to the shopkeeper with a flourish, telling her we would take it.
It was my third hat.
I also had a bright green and gold Siddhartha mask, a macramé wall hanging, a rainbow woven blanket, a massive white dreamcatcher, an I Love Bali tank top, a pink lizard magnet, beaded bracelets, and two straw purses—one small and round, the other large and rectangular.
Basically, if I touched it, or stopped to look at it for more than five seconds, Fenway decided I needed to have it.
"I love ridiculous things," he declared, handing the proprietor money, telling her to keep the change. From the wide eyes on her face, I imagined it was way over the asking price. "It is also good for the local economy that I am so ridiculous."
It wasn't just ridiculous.
It was generous.
I was starting to see that his way of throwing cash around wasn't exactly for recognition, for envy from others, but simple because he wanted to give; he genuinely liked brightening someone's day.
That was an unexpected and all-too-appealing quality, I had to admit.
"I literally don't have enough space to store all of this. I live on a bus, remember?" I reminded him, stopping myself short of touching wooden wind chimes, liking the idea of them, but knowing the constant clanging while driving Wanda would drive me mad.
"You'll find room," he assured me, dropping an arm across my shoulders, light and amiable, a part of him I was no longer seeing as superficial, but another side to his personality. We were all multifaceted. Judging him on it before had merely been because I'd been seeing him through a cynical lens, not a fair one.
"I think I will have to throw out my hot plate and coffee maker to make room for all of this.
"Food and coffee can be picked up on the road," he assured me, brushing my objections away.
By the time we finally left the market, I had an extra pair of flats, a coffee mug, and a really cute little mama and baby monkey statue.
"To remember our trip today," he told me, snatching it up, handing it to me, then paying for it.
I would never admit this, not even if Raven was giving me her 'out with it, Wasp' eyes, but there was a strange, unfamiliar little tugging sensation in my chest as I held it, as I thought about the sentiment behind it. I even had this insane urge to press the damn thing to my chest like some old long-forgotten childhood toy when finding it tucked in a box in the attic.
Uncomfortable with the sensations coursing through me, I took the statue, tucking it inside the round purse I had put on cross-body. Partly because I didn't want to keep feeling those sensations. But also because I wanted it safe, protected, not lost in the shuffle as we climbed back in the car.
"My feet hurt," I admitted, flexing them as I felt a refreshing blast of cold air from the air vent.
"Well, we certainly can't have that, can we?" Fenway asked, reaching down to snag my legs, ignoring my objection as he settled them over his waist, his hands going for one of my feet, fingers pressing with expert precision into my sore soles.
"You know, if the being a mega billionaire thing doesn't work out for you," I told him, leaning my head back against the window, eyes half closing, "you could really have a career in foot massage," I told him, watching the warm look in his eyes as he gave me a small smile. "Are we going home?" I asked, not knowing what the rest of the plan was because he refused to tell me more than one step at a time.
When I asked why he was being such a pain about it, he'd told me that he wanted it to be a surprise so he could see my reaction when I learned the next destination.
It was an annoyingly adorable thing to say.
I wanted to hate him for it. As I always hated mush, in all of its forms.
But there was no denying that, well, I was starting to feel a little mushy inside when he said things like that.
"Nope."
"Where are we going?"
"It's a surprise. This is my favorite part of the day," he added, smiling. "Don't worry though, darling, I will have time to finish both your feet before we get there."
"Well then, I guess I have no objections," I told him, nudging him with my free foot.