Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 97994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
I nod at him. “Whatever she’s having, I’ll have, too. I think we’re done pretending this dessert hasn’t ruined our appetites.”
“Not mine.” Beside me, Juliette huffs. “Are you always this bossy?”
“Sometimes.” All the time.
Her mouth turns down. “Well, stop. I don’t take orders from men.”
“I should hope not.”
Juliette glances between me and the server. “Diet Coke, please.”
I blink. “That’s it?”
She lifts a brow. “You just said you weren’t the boss of me.”
Touché.
“Diet Coke,” I repeat to the server. “And I’ll take mine with extra ice.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “You’re not what I expected.”
“That good or bad?”
She considers. “Inconveniently good—but you’re a little hard to read.”
“Occupational hazard.” I shrug.
She smiles at that, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “You joke a lot for someone who looks like he takes everything seriously, and you pretend to be uncomplicated but you’re not.”
I lean farther back into the booth. “You’re very observant.”
“It comes from being overlooked.”
Overlooked?
“By who?” Are people fucking insane?
Her shoulders rise, up and down. “Uh, by most people. Not very difficult when your brother is a professional athlete and your parents spent all their waking time driving him to and from practice—not that I’m resentful. It’s…” She shrugs again. “You know how it is.”
No, I don’t know how it is.
“That’s not the same thing,” I say quietly.
She blinks. “What isn’t?”
“Being overlooked and being overshadowed.” I tilt my head. “They feel similar, but they’re not. And for what it’s worth, you’re not easy to miss.”
Juliette’s lips part, and she shifts her body on the seat, moving closer. Tits brush my arm, branding my bicep through my shirt as her mouth presses a kiss to the column of my neck.
She slides her nose along my skin until her lips graze my earlobe. “For what it’s worth, thank you for saying so.”
My dick stiffens almost immediately.
My brain? No longer functioning.
And that? That is not great.
But it’s also perfect—because Juliette means it. And she wants me. And she’s too naïve to realize this slow burn seduction is anything but innocent.
Which means everything is going to plan.
NINE
JULIETTE
Aaron Bishop’s mouth.
Aaron Bishop’s voice.
Aaron Bishop looking like he was trying to resist me…
I unlock my apartment, kick the door shut behind me, and lean back against it like I’ve outrun a ghost. My heart does that stupid floaty thing as I stand there, breathing heavy.
Press a hand to my chest.
Take a few moments before dropping my keys on the little table in my entryway, lifting my hand, and checking to see if my cheeks are as hot as they feel.
They are.
“Get it together, Juliette,” I grumble. “This isn’t amateur hour. You’re a grown woman; you’ve seen plenty of attractive men.”
I kick off my heels, walking farther into my apartment, still irritated with myself for being so affected by Aaron and the shape of his lips.
Human Resources would not care about his sultry, hooded eyes. Or the way his voice had gotten quiet when he called me kind. Or how my nervous system has apparently decided he makes my knees weak.
“This date was a mistake. Huge.” I scowl into a mirror as I work the buttons at the front of my pretty dress—the one I’d thought was demure enough not to give him the wrong idea.
Let it fall to the floor in a puddle and stand in my strapless bra and underwear, palm my phone to dial the one person legally qualified to talk me off a ledge or push me directly off the end of it.
Blaire answers on the second ring. Her face appears on her screen though she’s in bed, and for a few seconds, I’m presented with the ceiling as she gets comfortable.
“If you’re calling to tell me you committed a felony, I fully approve. It’s literally about time you did something illegal.”
“You don’t even know what I’m about to say!” I laugh.
She rolls her eyes. “You have been responsible since birth. You recycle. You separate laundry. Also, remember that time you apologized to a barista for ordering during a rush and tipped her with a Starbucks card? So, whatever you’re about to tell me, I support.”
I hesitate. “I might get fired.”
“So soon?” Blaire sits up straighter, bolstered by a stack of pillows behind her.
I laugh again, walking into my bathroom and flipping on the light.
“I didn’t mention this to you because I wasn’t sure you’d approve, but…” I inhale a gulp of courage. “I had dinner with Aaron Bishop tonight, and when I say I practically had an orgasm from breathing the same air as him, I’m not exaggerating.”
“First of all, I’ve been telling you to fuck him for what—weeks now? Since he became your Hall Pass? Second, I love this for us. I love irresponsible Juliette. Third, who’s going to find out if you don’t tell anyone?”
Lots of people.
These things have a way of getting out—don’t they?