Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79499 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79499 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“I’m not hooking up with anyone,” I say, even though internally, I acknowledge that what they’re saying is true.
“If you’re not looking at Cora and thinking she’s hot, you’re dead inside.” River puts his hands behind his head and arches his spine, making audible cracking sounds as he stretches.
“Jesus.” I shake my head. “It sounds like you need to train.”
“Coach trained us too hard,” Tobias moans. “We’re both walking around like old men today.”
“Well, I’ll see you later.” As I head toward the kitchen door, I stop and turn. “Can you tell Danny and Alden that I took Cora to the gym? I just want to make sure that everyone is clear on what’s happening. This feels…”
“Volatile?” Tobias says.
“Exactly.”
Cora dresses in hot pink workout leggings and a yellow retro tee. With her hair scraped into a messy bun and a water bottle in her hand, she looks like perfection wrapped up in a kaleidoscopic bow, and I can’t take my eyes off her.
“We’ll take my car,” I say, grabbing the keys and biting my lip to regain some control. There is no way this girl will be able to work out next to me without me having a heart attack.
She slides into the passenger side, looking around the sleek interior. As Cora’s the first woman to ride next to me in over three months, I’m glad I haven’t let standards slip. It still has the new-car smell, courtesy of the air freshener, and she trails her fingers over the chrome and leather finish.
“Nice ride,” she says. “Is this what all accountants drive?”
“This is the only one in the parking lot at my office,” I say. “So maybe not.”
“Maybe you’re the only accountant in your firm with taste.” Reaching across herself, she tugs the belt and secures it into place.
“Maybe,” I smile.
As I pull out of the driveway, she makes a soft humming sound. “You’re a neat freak.”
I smile at her astute observation and how her knee is jiggling up and down in her flamboyant leggings. “What makes you say that?”
“Your car looks like it’s just rolled off the production line, your fingernails are better manicured than mine, your haircut is fresh, and don’t forget, I’ve seen your closet.”
“You’re keeping track of a lot of details about me.”
Cora snorts, gripping the edge of her seat as I drive the car a little too fast. “And you haven’t gathered your own details about me?”
She’s got me there. “I haven’t been in your closet or your car.”
“But you still think you have me sized up.”
“Oh, I would never make such an assumption,” I say. “Especially about someone who dresses so eccentrically for the gym.”
Through the corner of my eye, I see her eyebrows raise and a flicker of a smile on her lips. “Even boring things can be more interesting with color, Mark.”
The sound of my name on her tongue feels intimate in a way that startles me. I want to know more about this girl, and I want her to know more about me. I want her to fit into our home and feel happy about being there. I want to try and make up for some of the shitty ways my father acted, even though his sins aren’t my responsibility.
I ask her about her business and find out so much about the person she is that I’m already smitten by the time we reach the gym. She is a riotous color where I’m monochrome. She’s creative where I’m logical. She’s impetuous where I’m controlled.
“Opposites attract” might be a cliché, but in our case, it’s true, at least on my side. Cora smiles and laughs a lot, but I have no idea if that’s for my benefit or if she’s like that with everyone she meets.
At the gym, we work out together. She can’t quite match me, but she does a damn good job of trying. By the end, we’re both sweaty and amped up, and it’s all I can do to keep my gaze away from the sliver of skin bared where she’s knotted her shirt underneath her breasts. I should be thankful that she’s not wearing one of those workout bras because I’d be a goner.
On the way home, we talk about taxes, which is a subject I usually avoid, but Cora is grateful for my help. After we shower, she finds me in the den, clutching a bundle of files to her chest. This time she’s dressed in black leggings and a red shirt that hangs off her shoulder. Beneath is a scarlet bra that makes my mouth water.
“You seriously don’t mind helping me?” she says, biting her lip.
I want to tell her that I’d do anything she asked if she just sat next to me dressed like that, wearing that sweet perfume, but I don’t. “Sure. Let’s take a look,” is what I say instead.