Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
As soon as we reach the house, I lead him down the long driveway that curves around the back of the property. My apartment is above the third garage, but the way it’s set up makes it feel like I have my own space and I’m not living in someone else’s house. Hitting the remote for the garage, I pull inside and watch Sage drive up and park behind me. Grabbing my bags from the passenger seat, I open my door, get out, and head toward the trunk, where I meet him.
“Have you been over here before?” I ask when I see him looking around the neighborhood.
“I’ve spent my whole life in this town. When I was younger, I wanted to buy a house over here before the developers got a hold of it,” he says, taking my bags from me.
“You did?”
“Yeah, years ago, when this was nothing but farms and open land for miles.”
“I would have liked to see it then.”
“It was beautiful. My parents own a house a few miles down the road from here. Their house used to be in the middle of nowhere. Now, the city has grown up around them. My dad loves it, but my mom hates it and has been talking about moving farther out to get away from everyone.”
“This place is growing fast. Since I moved to town a couple months ago, they have built a Starbucks and a Taco Bell. I have never seen buildings go up so fast before,” I tell him as I head for the set of stairs inside the garage. With him at my back, I open the door to my apartment and turn on the light.
My apartment is just under six hundred square feet, with a combined kitchen and living room. There’s a small bedroom that is just big enough to fit my queen-size bed, two side tables, and a dresser, and a bathroom with a pedestal sink, and standup shower.
“This is nice,” he says, looking around, and I smile. I love my place. The dusty blue of the walls sets off the light gray colored wood floors that run through the place, making it seem bigger than it is, which is a bonus for sure.
“Thanks.” I take my bags from him. “But you should see the view from my bed,” I gush, then realize what I just said when his lips tip up. “Not that you will ever see it,” I add quickly, dropping my eyes to the floor as my cheeks get hot. “I just said that because I have a huge skylight over my bed that makes it feel like you’re sleeping under the stars,” I finish, then turn and head for my room without looking at him muttering, “I’ll be right back.”
Kicking off my sandals, I dump my bags on the bed then pick up my pillow and hold it to my face, wishing I could just scream. I’ve had three boyfriends. Two of them were when I was in high school, and one of them was in college. I haven’t dated since the last. Not really, anyway. I mean, I’ve gone out to dinner with a few guys, but nothing serious, and none of them ever came back to my place, so I have no idea what the hell I’m doing. Knowing he will hear me if I scream, I toss the pillow to the bed and head into the living room, where I find him standing over the demolished box my shelf came in.
“Did the box come like this?” he asks, looking at me, and I shake my head.
“No, it was in one piece when I bought it,” I say, and he looks from me to the destroyed box then back again. “It might have fallen down the stairs when I tried to carry it up here.”
“Just once?” he asks, and I let out a breath watching his lips twitch.
“Okay, a few times,” I revise, and he smiles.
“You got any tools?”
“Tools?” I repeat, and he presses his lips together like he’s trying not to laugh at me. “I obviously know what tools are. I just don’t have any. Besides, it came with the little thingy to put it together.”
“Thingy?”
“Are you going to make fun of me or help me?” I ask, putting my hands on my hips, and his eyes move over my face then drop to where my hands are resting.
“I’m not making fun of you.”
“It feels like you’re making fun of me,” I point out, and he stands, and now that I don’t have my sandals on, he’s not just taller than me. He towers over me, making me feel tiny and fragile.
“I would never make fun of you. I think the way you talk is cute.”
“Oh.”
“I’m gonna go out to my truck to get my tool bag. Can I use that door?” He tips his head toward the sliding door off the kitchen that leads to a deck, which looks over one of the large ponds in the middle of the community.