Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
“You do realise he just asked you out on a date, right?” Elle pops a bubble from between her lips and chews on the bubble gum for a moment after sucking it back into her mouth.
“No he didn’t.” That’s absurd. I’d know if he asked me on a date.
“He so did, or he implied that your next meeting wouldn’t be just a meeting.” She wags her eyebrows and pops her bubble gum once more.
“Shut up.” I moan and bury my face in my hands. “I don’t want to date anyone. Plus, he probably assumes I’m engaged.”
She eyes me suspiciously. “You’re not engaged?”
Oh right. I’ve kept myself to myself; nobody knows about Caleb. “Not anymore.” I twist the ring around my finger and exhale a long breath. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s complicated.”
Her quirked brow flies higher. “I’m not looking at you like anything.”
“You’re wondering why I’m still wearing the ring.” That I should take off before I lose it again.
She shrugs. “It’s a normal thing to wonder about when a person states they’re not engaged anymore but still wears the ring. Either you’re still in love with the guy and refuse to let him go, even though he’s gone, or you just really like the ring and don’t want to wear it on the other hand, or…”
I raise my ring free hand and laugh. “Stop, stop. I’ll tell you… sometime. Just not right now.” I need to lick my wounds in peace.
“Sure. If he comes back within the next few days for that ‘something special’,” she uses her hands to imitate air quotes, a wry grin on her face, “then you know he’s not just looking for his reward for returning that.”
“Whatever.” I wave her off and go to my bag. Removing the ring from my finger, I place it in the inside pocket and zip it tight. Now that I know it’s not there, my finger feels naked.
How could I not have noticed? Am I losing my mind?
Probably.
My phone rings as I’m entering the bar with Sasha, the same one I used to frequent with Caleb, Sasha and Tommy, back in the day.
I can’t believe how long ago that seems.
I look at the screen and frown at the fact the number has been withheld. I normally don’t answer but I figure it can’t be a company at this time. “Hello?”
No one responds.
“What drink do you want?” Sasha asks after waving the bar tender down.
“Just a coke,” I step to the side and place my finger in my free ear so I can hear my phone better. “Hello?”
“You’re in a bar?” Nathan asks; he does not sound pleased.
“Yeah, it took a while but my friends managed to convince me. Is Dillan okay?” I miss him so damn much.
Nathan clears his throat, “He’s fine.”
“Oh, well, good.” Part of me wishes Dillan could talk already, so I can ask him what he’s been doing and not get baby babble back in response. “So, what’s the problem?”
“You’re in a bar.”
I frown; now I’m confused and slightly irritated. “And that’s a problem because?”
More silence…
“Nathan, are you still there?”
“Yes.”
“Can I help you with something?” What’s he playing at? I don’t understand him at all.
“No.” He clips and suddenly the line goes dead.
What just happened? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he sounded jealous. And if he’s jealous then that means he still cares. I think. Why does this make me feel happy to a certain extent? I’m secretly mean, that’s why. I don’t want Nathan jealous. Why would he be jealous?
If I could call him back, I would, but I still don’t have his number. Maybe I should have gotten it from him before he left; that seems like a responsible thing for a parent to do. I should kick myself but I don’t like pain.
“Here,” Sasha thrusts a drink into my hand, causing the dark liquid to slosh over the top of its glass confinement and trickle over my fingers. Great, now I’m going to have to wash my hand. “Sorry.”
“No you’re not.” I laugh and sip my drink, almost spluttering as the strong taste of rum burns my throat.
“I got you a double.” She shrugs and bounces on the spot to the beat of the music.
“Thanks.” I gasp and clear my throat before taking a more tentative sip this time. It has been over a year since I last tasted alcohol. I was a lightweight then. I dread to think of how badly I’ll be a lightweight now. I shouldn’t even be drinking. “How’s work?”
“Far too boring to talk about on what should be an awesome night out.” She states and wiggles her hips a little. “Cheer up.”
I’m not being cheery? Oh. “Sorry.”
She throws my words back at me with a mischievous smile. “No you’re not.” Nope, she’s right. I’m so not. “Who was on the phone?”