Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
I touch her arm and lean in. “Ready to go?”
“Oh, Riggs!” Ike exclaims. He’s clearly ‘tipsy’ too. “Not yet. We’re just getting started here. The night is young!”
I check my watch just for show. “It’s past midnight and”—I almost say ‘Clover’—“Hattie and I have a long trip tomorrow on the trains. We’d better turn in, don’t you think, Hattie?” I give her arm a little squeeze when I say this. Not enough to hurt, but hard enough to get her attention.
She’s about to say no, but then her eyes find mine. I think she actually might’ve forgotten that she’s not Hattie Miller and these people are her literal enemies, because once our eyes lock, they sober up and she nods. “Yes, you’re right.” Then she turns to her crowd of admirers. “We’ll have to catch up another time.”
“Looking forward to it,” one man says.
“Do keep in touch,” his woman adds.
Clover leans in to have a few final words with the crowd, while Ike leans in to have a few words with me.
“Hey, the two of you… you’re not together, right? I mean, tell me I haven’t been stepping on your toes all night, Riggs, because I’ll feel like an asshole if I have.”
“No,” I quickly say. “We’re friends, that’s all. I’m just a little protective of her.”
“I’ve noticed. You’ve been lurking in the shadows behind us this whole night. Antisocial, as usual. But I have to say, I’m surprised you’ve remained friends. I mean, I wouldn’t mind if she took me down and tied me up. But most men probably would.”
“She was only doing her job,” I say.
“Hmmm,” Ike hums. “Funny. I’ve heard her name enough times to have a picture of her in my head. But that mental image and this real one don’t seem to have any relation whatsoever. She’s an absolute delight. And… well, if you’re not with her, then… I might just take my chance. You wouldn’t care, would you?”
I force a smile. “Not at all, Ike. Give it your best shot.”
He laughs, throwing his head back. Then he claps me on the back. “Thanks, brother. We’ll see ya next time you come through.” Then he steps away, raising his hand to hail another friend across the room.
He passes Clover, stops to kiss her offered hand one more time, then shoots me a wink over his shoulder as Clover approaches.
“Wow.” Her face is very flushed and while her eyes are bright and happy, they are also a bit glassy. “This was fun!”
“Yeah.” I offer her my arm, not even knowing where that gesture came from because never in my life have I offered a woman my arm. It just felt appropriate for some reason. And Clover doesn’t even blink when she clutches it, pushing herself into me, like she’s tired.
She sighs. “Did you have fun?”
“Sure.”
She looks up at me as we enter the elevator. “You didn’t.”
“It was fine. These people aren’t my crowd.” Then, under my breath, I mutter, “But apparently they are yours.”
If she hears my snide comment, she doesn’t respond. Just sighs again, leaning her head against my shoulder. “He’s not what I thought he would be.”
Here it comes. “I presume you are talking about Ike?”
“Yeah. I mean, from the way Lowyn described him, he’s a monster. But he doesn’t come off as a monster.”
“He’s like one of those pretty, poison frogs, isn’t he?”
“Or… just one of the copycats. For survival reasons.”
“Oh, my God, you like him?”
She shrugs, not even denying it.
“You’re just drunk,” I say, making excuses.
This makes her laugh. “Probably.”
Which is a terrible answer. So we go silent after that. Thoughts of Ike Monroe lingering in our heads all the way home.
When we get upstairs to our room, Clover heads straight for the bedroom. Once inside, she turns at the bottom of the bed, smiles, then spreads her arms and flops backwards, sending a ripple through the white, down comforter. She sighs. “I really needed this night.”
I close the door behind me and step into the middle of the room. “You needed a night out with a monster?”
She scoffs and, because she is kinda drunk, it comes out as a snort. “If you’re the monster, then I guess you’re right.”
“Whatever.”
“You’re just jealous.”
Now it’s my turn to scoff. And because I am way less drunk than she is, I don’t snort. “There isn’t a chance I’m jealous of Ike Monroe.”
Clover turns on her side, awkwardly attempting to prop herself up on her elbow. Her eyes are bloodshot and her long, blonde hair is all messy. She looks tired. But… also happy. Like she really did have a good time. “It’s not him you’re jealous of, Riggs. It’s my impression of him.”
“Because you fell for his cliché good looks? Because you fell for his over-the-top fake charm? Clover, the only thing I feel about those two things is pity.”