Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 121755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
He didn’t answer because I was still ranting.
“And I can’t even think about her not listening to you talk about your adventurous grandma!”
“Babe, you’re almost at the end of the roll, and if you toss that heap in the john, it’s gonna clog it.”
I stared down at the massive bunch of toilet paper in my hand.
I looked back at him. “A little privacy, Gabe.”
His lips tipped up. “You already dropped trou and you’re sitting on the bowl, woman, doing it to clean up my cum. I think we’re beyond that.”
Well, I guessed our lightning quick relationship was going to translate into this happening far sooner than it normally would.
At least he busied himself with extricating my makeup from the sink while I saw to business.
I was up, and he waited for me to wash and dry my hands before he caught me by the back of the neck, gave me a hard, dry kiss, and asked, “Refill on coffee?”
Still in his grip, I looked down to the basin, grateful I’d drunk most of the cup he’d already delivered so it hadn’t sloshed over during our recent activities, then back to him.
“Yeah.”
He kissed me, hard but (alas) dry again, let me go, grabbed my cup and went to refill my coffee.
I watched him going thinking Ariana Whatever-Her-Last-Name-Was was the stupidest bitch on the planet.
This is fortunate for you, since, if she wasn’t, you wouldn’t have gotten fucked so good this morning, Real Logic reminded me.
She’s still the stupidest bitch on the planet, Dreamer said.
Agreed, Real Logic replied.
Whatever.
I retrieved my shading brush.
And a few seconds later, Gabe came back with my coffee.
When we left my apartment that morning, Gabe walked me to my car.
And yeah, again, of course he was that fucking guy who, even though his car was maybe thirty feet from mine, he walked me to mine before he went to his.
I mean, he wasn’t the motherlode, he was a lot more than that, even though I didn’t know what that was.
No.
I did.
He was the freaking Holy Grail of boyfriends.
However, after we exchanged a kiss, and I was about to open my car door to get inside, he stopped me by curving an arm around me.
I turned back to him.
“I’m thinking Geordie’s. Maybe Steak 44,” he said.
“Sorry?” I asked.
“Or we could make it a thing and do Binkley’s.”
My breath caught.
“Binkley’s?” I breathed.
“I’ve always wanted to do one of those one-sitting, chef’s-set-menu gigs,” he said.
I’d always wanted to as well, especially if it was at Binkley’s, a restaurant I couldn’t afford, but I’d been dying to go to it since I heard about it.
“After your thing is done with the Angels,” he stated. “We’ll plan a night.” He grinned. “Wear heels.”
He was talking about doing a “special night.”
And yes again, he was that guy who would mention such a thing to his woman and then follow up on it.
And another yes, I was beginning to reel at how awesome he was (I mean, was there anything more elusive than the Holy Grail? Yes, a fantastic boyfriend!).
And even though all this went through my head, I was stuck on his grin.
He’d woken me up while grinning.
And now we were saying so long for the day, and he was grinning again.
It was fabulous.
It was gorgeous.
And after knowing him for ages where he barely smiled, it was coming out more often.
A lot more.
He gave me sprawling, safe in my sleep.
I gave him that.
And I was oh-so-totally going to take it.
Even so, it pissed me off, possibly beyond reason, what had taken that gorgeous grin away.
Sure, it was Denise.
But it was also Ariana.
However, for the now, I just said, “Totally Binkley’s.”
“Sometime next week,” he decreed. “Give me a night when you don’t have too much on, and I’ll make a reservation.”
There was no other way to respond to that, except what I did.
I threw my arms around him and kissed him with all I had.
And it was one hundred percent wet.
He wound his arms around me and returned it.
He finished it by touching his lips to the mark he’d planted on my neck before letting me go.
“Catch ya later, cupcake,” he bid as I got in my car.
I shot him a sunny smile that I hoped hid that inside I was seething (along with rejoicing because…Binkley’s!).
Then I started up my car and headed to work.
TWENTY-ONE
WARP SPEED
It was safe to say I still wasn’t over Ariana being such a bad girlfriend by the time I showed (late) at work.
Okay, so maybe I was still reeling from all he’d shared, about Denise as well as Ariana.
But yeah, I was stuck on the fact that Gabe had been going about his business at work, unsuspecting his world would be rocked that way, and he’d walked up to his dead girlfriend by a river, and Ariana was such a bitch, she was next in line in his life, and she wasn’t there for him about it.