Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
BiteSizedGabi: Just casually. Not like a date or anything. I was thinking we could find a way to keep it anonymous if we want.
Wait, did that sound like I never want anything to happen between us? I chew on my lip, scrambling to type another message.
BiteSizedGabi: I’m not saying only friends. There could be more. Just not…a relationship. Does that make sense?
“Oh God,” I mutter. “I am so bad at this.”
Eros415: Is this your way of telling me you just want to fuck me?
His blunt observation sends a rush of heat through me. I’m not sure how he’ll feel about it, but I answer honestly.
BiteSizedGabi: Maybe? Is that something you’d be interested in?
Eros415: Who is he?
BiteSizedGabi: Who?
Eros415: The reason you want to keep things casual.
I shift uncomfortably, not sure how to respond to that.
BiteSizedGabi: It’s complicated.
I just don’t want to get my heart broken...again.
A minute passes, followed by another four, and I’m starting to think I screwed things up when my phone rings. His name flashes across the screen, and I realize he’s video calling me.
“Oh God.” I panic, flailing around in bed as I sit up and try to smooth out my hair.
I don’t even know what I look like right now. I already took my makeup off, and I haven’t had time to prepare for this scenario.
With that in mind, I aim the camera at the ceiling and answer the call.
“Feeling shy?”
The altered voice sounds like it’s straight out of a horror movie, and it takes me a moment to understand he’s using some kind of modulator.
It’s…disturbingly hot.
“I don’t have any makeup on,” I say. “I’m in bed, and I probably look terrible—”
“Gabriela.”
I’m not sure how it’s possible, but that one admonishment from him sends a shiver down my spine.
“Show me,” he orders. “You said you wanted to meet.”
“I didn’t mean right now.”
“Show me, or I’m hanging up,” he threatens. “You have five seconds.”
“Wait!” I reluctantly pull my face into view, only to be greeted by a Ghostface mask and a black hoodie in a dark room.
“Oh.” My lips part.
“I take it that means you like it.”
I nod slowly. Too slowly. I think my brain just melted.
“Sorry,” I murmur. “I didn’t realize it was a costume party.”
A sound of amusement filters through the modulator. “You said you want to keep things anonymous.”
I relax against the headboard, curling my knees into my chest. “I’m not very good at small talk,” I warn him. “I do better when I write things out.”
“That’s okay,” he muses. “We can just stare at each other.”
“To be fair, I’m not great at eye contact either. Not at first, anyway.”
“Then it’s a good thing you can’t see mine.”
A beat passes, and I can feel him studying me from beneath the mask. It makes me nervous, but mostly because I don’t know if he’s picking me apart.
“Am I what you expected?”
“You’re perfect,” he answers darkly.
Another flush crawls over me, and I hope he doesn’t notice.
“Want to play a game, little shark?” He sinks back into his chair, sprawling out in that casual way men do.
“What kind of game?”
“Secret for a secret?”
I chew on my lip as I try to think of one.
“I’m terrified of storms,” I admit.
There’s a long, silent pause as he watches me, and without seeing his face, I have no clue what he might be thinking. I’m not sure if I should remind him it’s his turn, but when he finally speaks, it sounds like a confession.
“I think about you way more than I should.”
“Why does it sound like you wish you didn’t?”
“Because I shouldn’t.” His voice dips. “I’m not a good man. Not for you.”
I twist the blanket between my fingers as I consider that. “Are you trying to warn me away?”
“Yes.”
“But does it really matter if we keep things casual?”
He releases a breath. “I don’t do casual, Gabriela. If I touch you, I’ll ruin you.”
Disappointment settles over me, snuffing out the small spark of hope I had. I wanted it to be him. We’ve talked about it so much, it seemed like a strong possibility. But I can’t fault him for being honest.
“I understand.”
Tension stretches between us, and I hate that everything feels messed up now. I never should have asked him, but I can’t undo it.
“It’s late,” he tells me. “You should get some sleep.”
I nod, wondering if this is goodbye forever. Will I even hear from him again?
“Goodnight,” he murmurs.
I muster up a sad smile. “Goodnight.”
4
GABRIELA
“Drink up, Beppe.” I hold up his collapsible water bowl, and he stares at it with disinterest.
“Or not.” I sigh.
He’s too distracted by the commotion in the café to care about much else, so I tuck him back into his tote.
I crack open my notebook to work on the Capstone Studio design brief. The admin part of the project is my least favorite, but it’s necessary. If I put it off, I’ll procrastinate forever, so I’ve been trying to chip away at it in manageable chunks. Soon, I’ll have to draw up a business plan to present to a mock panel of investors.