Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 133655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
“Yeah. I know. It’s a new thing I’m trying,” he says with a chuckle. “Be more like Julia. Smart, funny, reliable. You know?”
I blush lightly at the unexpected compliment. “Will you be working on your tan? Because I’m also working on my tan.”
“Until the good weather heaves its last breath. We could go to the swim club tomorrow if you want.”
For the first time in our friendship, I hesitate to confirm the plan right away, and I don’t know why. It’s not like I don’t want to spend the day with Ace at the pool—it sounds amazing—but I’m a little afraid since we kissed at the lake that maybe I want it too much.
Maybe, somehow, under the radar, I’ve let myself get too attached to Ace, and one day he’s going to meet some other girl who pulls the rug right out from under me.
“We’ll see, I guess. I told Drew I’d check in with him tomorrow too. Maybe he can come.”
“Oh. Yeah,” he says. “Sure, thing. Maybe I’ll invite someone too.”
Yep. There’s the rug, tight weave and fringy edges in all its glory.
“Well, thanks for looking out for my fire safety, but if it’s okay with you, I think I’m gonna lie low and go solo tonight. It feels like a big deal, you know? The first night in my big-girl apartment.”
His eyes soften, and the corners of his mouth lift. “It is a big deal. And you should spend it however you imagine it should be.” He exhales loudly and shrugs. “Well. I’ll be going, then. Maybe unpack some of my boxes.” He laughs. “But if you need me…”
I smile. “You’re right across the hall.”
Ace Kelly has always been the boy I could count on. I have to wonder how I’ll handle it one day—when he’s the man at the end of someone else’s calls.
When he’s the man another woman can count on.
Friday, July 11th
Ace
I sit on my couch in my apartment, staring at the paused show on Netflix, one ear to the door and my heart in my throat. Julia just got home from lunch with Scottie and Kayla, and while she was gone, I did a little work on her window air conditioning unit using the spare key she gave me the night we moved in.
Now, I know entering her place without her knowledge was a huge violation of her privacy and, well, the law, but I am in a desperate place, which has pushed me past the brink of the cliff above an ocean of poor choices. And in my defense, I didn’t rummage through her panty drawer; I legit just did a little “work” on the AC.
And since this is technically included in the next phase of my big plan to make Julia fall in love with me, one might say it’s a necessity.
Three days have passed since we moved in to our new apartments across the hall from each other, and if anything, Julia has been spending less time with me. I haven’t been able to show off any of my manly, partner-esque qualities like reliability or integrity or my protective instincts or even my good sense of humor, and because she doesn’t have to text or call to check in and see what I’m doing in the mornings, she doesn’t.
I’ve popped over and knocked a few times, but the urge to sit in her lap and wait for her to love me is becoming unbearable, and believe it or not, I don’t think it would help.
So, I’ve stooped. I’ve connived. I’ve crossed four different lines.
My knee bounces violently up and down as I listen intently, hoping to hear her door opening and her coming across the hall any minute. And she will. I know she will because I’ve made sure of it, but still, I’m nervous.
Visions of her smiling face as I solve her problems dance in my head along with the accompanying tongue-filled kiss that follows. I imagine us falling into each other, our sweat-slicked bodies fighting for more contact as we declare love and monogamy and an intent to have lots and lots of sex for the rest of our lives. She laughs at all my jokes and tells me she can’t live without me, and I tell her she doesn’t have to because I’m kidnapping her forever.
It’s an elementary story at best, but I’m no fucking romance novelist, okay? I’ve read a few of my mom’s—when forced—but I don’t know how character arcs or climaxes work. I just know I’d like to be with Julia. Forever.
I adjust my backward hat again, smoothing it at the tops of my ears and making sure it’s giving the appropriate amount of sex symbol. This look has been a weakness for Julia since high school, and given the tropical climate I’ve set across the hall, it should be perfectly on trend for reminding her what’s normally hiding under my style.