Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 60219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
“Yeah, right,” I muttered, but my voice sounded far away. My focus was intensely zeroed in on my drink, which I was twirling in circles between my fingers. It was nearly empty. I was going to either need to have this be the only one or take down the entire bottom shelf in one go to get through this. I could probably get through the whiskies before I needed to take a nap.
“I did,” Graham said, smiling wide. “It’s one hundred percent true.”
“Uh huh,” I said, taking a big gulp of my drink and hoping the alcohol hit immediately.
“Seriously, I thought you were cute. I didn’t know a whole lot about you, but I thought you were super cute,” he said. “I liked how different you were. You were artsy and nerdy and … punkish.”
“Thanks,” I said, not sure if that was a compliment or an insult.
“I mean that in the best way, I promise,” Graham said. “You were so different from everyone else I knew. You weren’t stuck up and judgmental. You cared about art, like really cared. You got me reading famous playwrights.”
“I was such a nerd,” I said, fighting against the blushing cheeks that I was sure were giving away how flattered I was. Yet, no matter how real all this felt, there was a nagging voice in the back of my head. A voice that said that not only was this not real, but that this was a Carrie situation. At any point now, a bunch of people are going to start laughing and Graham was going to say, ‘I got her’ and point and laugh. Debbie would probably be one of them.
I could imagine how easy it would be to dupe me. I was the one who came to the game, just like I had in high school. I had the sign and tried to get his attention. It would have been easy to figure out a way to set me up.
I tried to shake it off. I wasn’t that girl anymore. I was an adult, a confident one. I knew who I was, and I knew I could stop this if I wanted. I could just get up and walk away.
But this was Graham Miller. I should see this through. If he was playing me, I wanted to be able to tell him off.
And if he wasn’t…
“You might have been,” Graham said, nodding, “but I thought you were adorable. And I wished I knew you better back then.”
I stared at him for a moment, waiting for his face to screw up in laughter or for him to reveal he had been recording me secretly or something. Instead, all I saw was honesty in his eyes. Maybe a trace of real regret. Was this really happening?
The corner of his lip curled upward in a grin, and I felt my chest twist. That grin was so effective. I found myself hating Debbie even more. How could she see that grin, be able to kiss those lips, have the attention of this gorgeous man and then give him up willingly? What kind of arrogant bitch could do that?
I tried not to look at him, moving my attention to the bar. On the other end, I could see another woman. She was blonde and pretty. Big blue eyes. She was wearing a slinky evening gown and was sitting alone. Her eyes were burning into the back of Graham’s head.
It hit me. She was there for him. I let my eyes travel around the room and saw other people watching us too. People were whispering. Gesturing. They knew who he was, but they didn’t know who I was. I mean, I guess it was technically possible that someone could recognize me from off-off-off Broadway, but the likelihood of that in this city was very low. It was a lot more realistic that they would see this incredible, famous, successful baseball player sitting with a generic woman with unruly hair and wearing clothes that didn’t seem to fit the clientele of the bar she was in.
But Graham wasn’t paying attention to any of them. I didn’t even know if he recognized that any of them were there. He was purely focused on me. I got the impression he kept staring at my lips. I wondered if my lipstick was screwed up, but the mirror behind the bar showed it being in place and perfect.
“Yeah, well, I had a crush on you too,” I said, then slapped my hands over my mouth. “Oh my God, I didn’t just say that.”
Now the laugh I was expecting came, but instead of a cackling and mocking sound, it was a genuine, loud, singular sound. A laugh of surprise. Perhaps of vindication. I looked at him over my hands which were crawling up my face to cover my eyes, much the way my skin felt like it wanted to crawl off. My palms firmly shut over my lips so I couldn’t make the same mistake again. My tongue was a traitor, and I couldn’t trust my mouth being open.