Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 84952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
I watch her move across the room like some kind of angel. I’m well aware that my mind is fucking with me, but I can’t help it.
She’s even more fucking gorgeous now than she was earlier. Who would’ve thought that was possible?
Larissa climbs into bed, and I hand her the cookies. She slips under the covers.
“So …” I say, taking a bite of a Ding Dong. “Now what?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know.” She takes a cookie from the container and nibbles along the edge. “Wanna talk?”
I lay my head back against the headboard. It hits with a thud, making her laugh.
I sort of knew this was coming. It’s what she does. Larissa asks questions. But I’ve discovered that as much as it annoys me when she does it, it annoys me less when it’s her and not someone else. And it annoys me even less when she doesn’t do it.
Maybe this is because, down deep, I kind of like her dedication to figuring me out. It might also be that I like her resiliency. No matter how hard I try to deter her, she pushes.
Because she just might care a little.
I take another bite of my treat, letting my head fall over so I can look at her. She watches me out of the corner of her eye and tries not to grin.
The longer we sit in silence eating our junk food, the more I feel myself giving in to her iron-clad will.
I sigh. “Fine. Three questions.”
She shimmies to sit upright. Her eyes glow. “Anything I want?”
“I reserve the right not to answer anything I don’t want to,” I say, ignoring the face she makes, “but, yes. You can ask me three things. But I get three back to you.”
She squeals. I roll my eyes.
She pretends she doesn’t already know what she’s going to ask. It’s adorable.
“Okay. First question,” she says. “What is your hidden talent?”
I fill my mouth with my cake. “Singing.”
“Singing?”
I nod.
“Okay. Sing.”
I laugh, shaking my head as I swallow. “I can’t just sing on demand.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No, I can’t.”
She sticks her bottom lip out. I reach over and flip it with my thumb.
She swats my hand. “Sing your karaoke song,” she says.
“My karaoke song. What’s that?”
“The song you sing when you karaoke. Duh.”
Flashbacks of karaoke with the football team at The Truth Is Out There come rolling back through my memory. It always happens on the nights we drink—nights that don’t happen very often. Not for Crew, River, and me, anyway.
“So?” Larissa prompts.
I stick out my bottom lip. “‘Hello’ by Adele.”
“What?” She smiles broadly. “Go. Sing. Now.”
“Again, I just can’t sing when prompted. I’m not a fucking canary.”
She laughs. “Come on, Hollis. Sing for me.”
I can tell by the glimmer in her eyes that she’s not going to let it go. She’s going to hound me until I finally break down, so I might as well do it now.
I clear my throat and begin to sing the first few bars of Adele’s hit song. The smile dims on Larissa’s face as I get to the part about a million miles.
“Oh, my gosh,” she whispers. “Hollis. You’re good.”
I let the line vanish off the tip of my tongue and shrug. “I’m not good. It’s fine. It’s just my party trick.”
“No. Don’t sell yourself short. Your voice is amazing.”
I blow her off. “Okay, my turn. What’s your hidden talent?”
“You can’t ask me what I ask you.”
I grin. “Oh, I can. And I did.”
“I don’t have one.” She pops a cookie in her mouth. “I’m talentless.”
I doubt that. I turn over onto my side and watch her. “Answer it, or we’ll be here all night.”
She rolls over to face me too. “That’s fine. I live here.”
I brush a piece of cookie off her lip. “Answer. It.”
“I really don’t have any hidden talents, but I can speak English, French, and bits of Russian.”
“No shit?”
She nods. “I had to take a foreign language in school and fell in love with it. I’m learning Russian on an app on my phone.”
“Huh. That’s cool. Not what I was expecting, but I love it.”
“Great.” She smiles at me. “Question number two is one I’m just using for scientific research, okay?”
“Okay.”
“How do you feel about monogamy?”
“Interesting change of direction.”
She waits patiently for me to answer.
“I feel like if you’ve committed to someone and you’ve agreed that’s what you’re doing, then you honor that. Your word is your word,” I say.
“But do you think it’s something that can be done?”
“Of course.”
She studies me. “Is it something you do?”
I wish I had another Ding Dong at my disposal, so I didn’t have to answer this.
“Not really,” I say, watching her face fall. “I’m not against it. By all means, if you’re going to be in a relationship, monogamy would be the way to go.”
“So you don’t really do relationships?”