Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
She thought about that, no idea it was the truth. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
Taking her wrist, Robbie tugged her off the bumper. “Come on, let’s go get breakfast.” He twined their fingers together, ignoring the lump that welled in his throat over how right it felt, and guided her toward the Dunkin’ entrance. “Pretend we’re a couple. We’ll keep working on flirting.”
Skylar’s wide-eyed gaze brushed over their joined hands. “Okay.”
“It’s your turn for a pickup line, so start thinking.”
“The pressure is on,” she muttered, following him into the air-conditioned shop, the coffee- and sugar-scented air enveloping them on all sides, “Smooth Operator” drifting out of the unseen speakers. There was nobody in line, so they walked up to the register hand in hand. Skylar ordered an orange juice and a chocolate glaze, while Robbie ordered three breakfast sandwiches and a large coffee, cream and sugar, please and thank you.
The young man working behind the counter handed Skylar her donut right away and she took a bite while they stepped aside and waited for Robbie’s food to be ready.
“Okay, I think I’ve got a pickup line. Be forewarned, it might be terrible.”
Robbie tried not to stare at her mouth as she chewed, knowing full well it would taste like chocolate oranges. Still sweating in all the places. “Let’s hear it, Rocket.”
She swallowed her bite, squared her shoulders like she was preparing to throw a pitch. “If you were this donut I’m eating, you’d already be inside me.”
Immediately, he choked on his spit, dissolving into a coughing fit right there in the middle of Dunkin’. “Holy shit, girl,” he managed.
“That bad?”
More sweating. His waistband tuck job wasn’t going to last. But his own suffering became an afterthought in the face of Skylar’s growing embarrassment. “Bad? What? That was hot.” Just please don’t say that ever again to anyone but me. Please. “Don’t quote me on this, but I think you might be a natural.”
She rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”
“I won’t shut up. That was advanced.”
“Well . . .” She shrugged, a little cockier now. “I was raised around a lot of boys.”
“Believe me, you do them proud. I almost choked on my tongue.” Completely forgetting himself, Robbie reached up and brushed a speck of glaze from the corner of Skylar’s mouth. “Now, say it again, but give me body language at the same time.”
“What kind?”
Never having explained flirting out loud before, Robbie took a moment to think. About what he’d die to have Skylar do to him. What would make him hot. Or hotter, as it were. “Look at my mouth when you say it. Touch me in some way.”
She nodded for a few seconds, then stopped. “Touch you how? Give me an example.”
Gladly.
Looking her in the eye, he moved closer, smoothing back some wayward hair that curled near her right temple. Then he let his fingers skim down, down to her neck, right behind her ear, just the barest hint of his fingertips connecting with her smooth skin, gratified when he left goose bumps in his wake. “No one should ever touch you like this, unless you asked, okay?”
“I know,” she half whispered, studying him with a small wrinkle in her brow.
“If someone ever does that, you come find me. I’ll go find them.”
“Not if I kill them first.”
Lips twitching reluctantly, he let his hand drop away, all five digits continuing to tingle. “Good.”
After a beat, Skylar raised her hand and repeated the action identically, which Robbie found so endearing it was almost painful, because he didn’t have those little flyaway hairs at his temple, but who cared? Who gave two shits when her touch was trailing down the cords of his neck and her gaze was locked on his mouth. God, it was a struggle not to breathe like he’d just played a full period of hockey without substitutions.
“If you were this donut I’m eating, you’d already be inside me,” she murmured, surprising him by dipping her fingertips past the collar of his hoodie, tugging lightly on one of the strings playfully, before letting her hand fall to her side once again. “How was that?”
“Really good,” he rasped, abdomen flexed tighter than a drum.
A voice was shouting in the back of his head, probably some kind of warning that he was already getting in too deep with Skylar, feelings-wise. And the voice only got louder—
“Robbie, they’re calling your number.” She waved a hand in front of his eyes. “Your pile of sandwiches is ready.”
“Oh. Yeah.” He turned on a heel and stumbled to the counter, wincing when the man behind the counter gave him a knowing smirk.
This trip was off to a fine start.
Chapter Nine
As Skylar took the exit off 95 that would take them to Cumberland and her family home, a familiar knot started to form in the dead middle of her stomach. It wasn’t the kind of knot that tied itself around her intestines before she pitched a game. Nor was it the type of low, confusing knot she’d experienced back in the roadside Dunkin’ Donuts during her first official flirting lesson.