Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“Come over tonight. I don’t care how late it is. I need to see you.” It’s been almost two days since I last saw her, and I’m craving everything about her.
“I don’t know,” she says with a sly grin. “Do you think you deserve for me to come over?”
“Seriously, Sour Patch?” I scoff.
Only instead of her responding, my phone chimes in, “To confirm, you’d like to call Sour Patch.”
I pull my phone out of my pocket, confused as to what the hell Siri is going on about, and see that on my screen is the name Sour Patch. Siri—who thought I said, Siri, call Sour Patch—is trying to call her.
I press call on my phone, and a second later, Kinsley’s phone starts ringing. I glare at her, and she cracks up laughing.
“Are you telling me that I’ve had your number on my phone this entire time?”
“No, only for a little while.”
“Since when?”
She wraps her arms around my neck. “Since I knew I was falling for you.”
Fuck, this woman.
“If I didn’t have a class to teach …” I shake my head, wondering how pissed my brother would be if I bailed on the class so I could bring Kinsley back to my place and fuck her on every damn surface.
“It will have to wait,” she says, stepping away from me. “I’ve been wanting to take this class. C’mon, boyfriend. You can show me how to fend off an attacker.”
She takes my hand in hers, and I follow her to the studio where the class is being held while thinking about two things. One, I would follow this woman anywhere. And two, while I love the fact that she called me her boyfriend, I want to be so much more than that.
“Dad, you home?” Taylor calls out as she slams the front door and stops in the living room.
“You already know I’m home. My truck is in the driveway,” I point out, clicking pause on the movie Kinsley and I were watching.
It’s Thursday afternoon, and since I’m not working and I got done at the health club earlier and Kinsley’s last session ended around the same time, she rode home with me so we could watch a movie and make dinner.
My daughter rolls her eyes like the dramatic teenager she is.
“Dad,” Taylor groans. “Focus.”
Kinsley laughs, and Taylor grins at her, like she’s just noticing that she’s sitting next to me.
“Kinsley!” Taylor runs over and throws her arms around Kinsley, making Becky, who was cuddled into Kinsley’s side, move to the floor so she can go back to sleep.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Taylor says. “This is perfect!”
“That’s my daughter’s way of saying she’s about to con you into whatever idea she’s thought up,” I note, making Kinsley snort out a laugh and Taylor glare.
“I’m not conning anyone,” Taylor says, squishing herself between Kinsley and the arm of the couch. “You know how we have spring break coming up, right?”
I nod. It’s coming up soon. When Taylor was little, she would spend it with my parents, but since she’s older, she tends to just work or hang out with her friends that week.
“Mom said her photo shoot is wrapping up earlier than planned, so she’s coming into town. And we’re going to take a girls’ trip to New York City to go shopping and see the museums and stuff. She said we can even go see a Broadway show!”
Taylor’s face lights up, and I pray Jamie doesn’t fuck this trip up because I’ll be the one dealing with a brokenhearted daughter while she’s off jet-setting to her next location.
“NYU has opened their college tour dates,” she continues, “and one of them is during my spring break, so I was wondering if you could meet us in New York. Mom said she’s planning to fly out of JFK anyway, so it would save her the drive back to Brookside, and we could spend a few days in the city, exploring NYU and doing their tour. They said applications will be opening in August, and that’s only, like, five months away. Plus, this will mean I won’t miss any school.”
Her eyes go dramatically wide, and I stifle a laugh that I know she won’t appreciate.
“Oh!” she exclaims, glancing at Kinsley, her eyes softening. “The reason why I’m glad you’re here is, you have to come. Dad hates the city. He avoids it at all costs. But you said you used to live there, right? And you went to NYU. So, I need you there to show me everything.”
“Taylor …” I start, knowing the word no isn’t in Kinsley’s vocabulary when it comes to my daughter.
“I’d love to,” Kinsley says before I can finish. “I haven’t been there in forever, but, yeah, I know the city like the back of my hand. I can show you all the great hangouts and places to eat and study. And there are so many cute bookshops. Who knows? Maybe we can make a lover out of your dad.” She bumps me playfully, and I shake my head.