Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 101466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
“I beg your pardon?”
“Don’t you own a dress? We’re supposed to be on a date. Not going for yoga.”
I looked down. I wore a pretty pair of leggings with fancy trim. A blouse that had flowers on it. Flowers. My good shoes. I had dried my hair and curled it. I’d used eyeliner—it failed, but I tried. I put on colored lip gloss. I had thought I looked nice.
Better than nice.
“I don’t like dresses,” I said between tight lips. “Or your attitude.” I was shocked at his behavior. Where was the somewhat funny, seemingly decent guy from two days ago? I should have listened to my gut.
“Since I’m paying for dinner, I can have any attitude I like.”
The waitress came over, sliding our meals in front of us. A huge pile of spaghetti with meatballs was on the plate. Red sauce dripped over the edges. A basket of garlic bread was placed in the middle of the table.
My appetite was gone. I had no desire to sit across from Chris and listen to his complaining all night.
“Whatever you can’t eat, I will,” he informed me. “I assume you have a good appetite, given your, ah, figure, but I doubt you can polish it off.”
“My figure?” I asked.
“I usually like thin girls,” he said, talking with his mouth full, the sauce dribbling out the corner. “But I thought I’d make an exception. Cal said you were awesome and everyone was looking at you on Saturday, so I decided to overlook it. I just thought you’d make more of an effort. Be girlier.”
“Really.” He’d asked me on a date because other people looked at me. How flattering.
He shoved in another mouthful, chewing loudly. Unbidden, I thought of Jesse. He ate a lot, but he did it with manners. He chewed slowly, enjoying his food. He knew the purpose of a napkin.
He never once pointed out my flaws and said he’d overlook them.
“Are you going to sulk or eat?”
“Do you still have my number?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Lose it.”
Then I stood. I resisted dumping the spaghetti over his head since that would cause the waitress more work. I shoved the plate toward him. “Enjoy it.”
He reached over and grabbed my wrist. “Sit down.”
“No.”
He squeezed, and I winced in pain.
“I said sit down.”
I sat back down in the booth, pulling on my arm. He let go, glaring. The action knocked over his glass, and the remnants of his beer splashed onto the sleeve of my blouse. I grabbed a napkin to mop it up.
“Great,” I muttered.
“I’m paying for the meal, so eat it,” he snapped.
I leaned forward. “Listen, jackass. You tell me I didn’t make any effort. You brought me to the same bar we were at the last two times for the pasta special. That’s way less effort than I put forth. You eat like an animal, and you’ve done nothing but insult me. Now, I’m leaving, and if you try to stop me, I’ll scream so loudly, your eardrums will bleed. Lose my number, and I don’t ever want to see you again.” I narrowed my eyes. “And the next time you kiss someone, get their permission.”
His face darkened, but he didn’t stop me this time. I walked past the bar and stopped when I saw our waitress. She smiled at me sympathetically. “He’s not so good with women. You’re not the first.”
I slipped some money into her hand. I had a feeling he wasn’t so good with tips either.
I headed to my car.
I ended up at a bar just down the street called the Watering Hole. I parked at the back and went in, ordering a wine spritzer and sipping it slowly. The bar was quiet, and no one bothered me. I ordered another one and brooded.
What a jackass. He was rude, inappropriate, and thought far too much of himself. My worry about the underlying edge to his humor should have been my first warning.
I finished my spritzer and ordered a clubhouse but only nibbled it. I was a lightweight when it came to alcohol, and the drinks were making me sleepy. I paid my bill and headed to my car, sitting in the driver’s seat and feeling sorry for myself.
I also realized, even though it was a short distance, I couldn’t drive. I cursed when I realized I’d left my phone at home so I couldn’t call a cab, and I didn’t want to go back inside the bar. I made sure my doors were locked and slid my seat back. I’d nap for a while and let the alcohol wear off, then I would walk home.
I dozed, startling awake at a knock at my window. I looked up, surprised to see Jesse standing there. Frowning, I opened the door, and he stepped into the space.
“What are you doing here? Are you stalking me?”