Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 117415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
I’m around the corner from T&S’s, having been sent to Patsy’s on an errand, now leaning against the wall in the shade. “Oh, is that who you’re losing sleep over?” I ask. “I’m not sure I’m doing a good job caring for them. I went to the pond with bread just this morning, and every other duck came right up, but Little A wasn’t having any of it. I don’t think he likes me.”
“Bet you don’t even remember which one he is.”
I suppress a laugh. “Guess he’s really screwed. Probably much better you come here yourself, then.”
“Maybe I should just … ditch the show tonight.”
I part my lips, for half a second asking him if he really would. If I was on a quest to see every show my favorite song artist was having around town—assuming I had such an artist I was devoted to—it’d be a huge deal to give up even one of those concerts just to hang out with some small-town guy I barely know.
But even I know we’re more than that by now. He’s invested in me just as much as I am in him. That door keeps opening wider …
Still, I shake my head. “No, no. You shouldn’t ditch the show.”
“I’m tellin’ you. Just say the word, I’ll bail.”
Something tells me he isn’t dicking around. “Seriously, I think you should … you should stick with your plans. You already have a ticket. It’s just one more day, right?”
“What if Little A doesn’t have another day?” he asks. “What if he’s starved? What if he really needs someone with him?”
“Is that what you need?”
Silence. “Well, I guess … I … could use the company, too.”
“We’re not talking about the duck anymore, are we?”
“Nope.”
I have to bite my lip to keep from grinning. “I could use some company, too.”
“In that case …” I hear him take a breath. Even his breaths are sexy, forcing me to picture his body as it takes in a deep, muscular inhale, then lets it out, causing his eyes to sparkle and his lips to crinkle up in his irresistible, dimple-producing way. “I don’t mean to … invite myself on you or nothin’ … but if you’ve got a place in mind we could hang … maybe without, uh … people around …” He clears his throat. “Not to do anything,” he quickly adds. “Wow, I sound like a scumbag. I’m not tryin’ to get into your pants, really not. It’s more about our—”
“Privacy,” I help him.
“Somethin’ like that.”
I’m pretty sure it was the only thing holding us back last time.
Otherwise, we probably would have tackled each other at that duck pond and ripped each other’s clothes off.
Or we might have just been more comfortable. Open. Sharing ourselves without feeling like anyone’s watching. I’m not exactly out in the open myself, which he knows. Gathering from how he’s acted and what he’s said, I don’t think he’s very keen on inviting attention either. It makes sense, to be somewhere private. Like …
Oh.
I picture Austin showing up at my house. Gawking at the mere acreage. Letting him inside, watching him spin around, astounded. Eyes taking it in. And the added challenge of still having to dodge my parents. Not to mention anyone who might be at the house and could tattle by means of innocently asking my mom who the handsome fellow is I just smuggled to my room like a dirty secret.
I’m not sure I’m ready for Austin to know … all of me.
In scrambling for a solution, my math brain kicks in. “Exactly how far are you from Spruce, anyway?” I ask.
“Just over an hour and a half, maybe two.”
Farther than I thought. Then I remember something he said in a text last night. What if … “And how far from Fairview?”
I hear him thumb-typing. “Forty minutes and change.”
“Same, if I speed a teeny bit. What if …” I hesitate, wondering if this is a bad idea. “We could …” My brain is seriously fighting my heart over this. Or my gut. Or is it my dick? Whatever it is that’s steering my brain right now. “What I’m trying to say is …”
“Yeah?”
I scrunch up my face. “Fairview’s partway between us.”
It takes him a second. “You … wanna meet up there instead?”
“It’d be easier for you,” I reason, making this all about him and totally not about hiding my family or huge house. “You could even still see your concert. Then afterwards, we can … meet up in Fairview. I know a couple less-popular hangouts. It’d be away from prying eyes here at home. We’ll be … more alone.”
“Fairview,” he mutters, then more pleasantly, “Let’s do it.”
I bite my lip, exorbitantly happy. The next second: “But what about Little A and Kit-Cat?”
“They were just an excuse. Though …” He clears his throat. “I do actually care about them. How about I’ll see how they’re doin’ next time? Maybe try to leave some bread out for Little A, right on the edge of the pond. Don’t expect him to come up to you. The more sensitive creatures, they need … to feel safe first. Before they can start trustin’ you. Know what I mean?”