Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 153946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 770(@200wpm)___ 616(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 770(@200wpm)___ 616(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
“I’ll get you his number and you can call him yourself.”
I made myself walk away from her to start looking through her cabinets. I found a bottle of Tylenol and handed her two pills, closing her fingers around them before resuming my search. “Take those.”
“What are you doing, Wade?”
“Looking for something to soak up that alcohol before we follow up dinner with a movie night. Got any bread?”
“I think I’m out again. Movie night?”
I aimed for a casual tone. “I suppose we could hop on your computer and watch some of those reaction videos you were talking about before.”
She sipped her water and did a little two-step around the kitchen to the softer music. “You wouldn’t like them. It’s a guilty people-watching pleasure.”
I had to admit, it sounded depressing. Like looking through a window at a party you weren’t invited to.
I was old enough to remember when people had actual watch parties together, in the same room. But that was back when there were only a handful of channels, every world turned by the TV Guide and there were Blockbuster Videos instead of Starbucks on every corner.
Times sure had changed.
“There’s music too,” she told me with a snorting giggle. “You’ve never felt truly old until you’ve watched twenty-somethings listening to Bon Jovi or Phil Collins on the drums for the first time.”
She darted closer to play a quick, recognizable drum solo on my ass before dancing away again.
I sent her a look of playful warning, not that I minded her touch. “We’re not that old, Gus.”
“Middle-aged then.” She wrinkled her nose. “Did you have any idea that being middle-aged meant you’d be stuck in the middle of a brain that thinks it’s sixteen and a body that feels like it’s sixty?”
I grunted. That sounded about right to me.
“You should think about doing that for the icehouse,” she said suddenly.
“Doing what?”
“Pick a series and record your customers watching it. You’d have nerdy beer lovers forming a line out the door. Its brilliant PR. Phoebe would be all over it. If you let the camera focus on your sexy butt occasionally, you’d make a fortune.”
“My butt appreciates your confidence.” I pulled out some microwave popcorn and the package of cookies I found hidden behind a box of cereal. It would have to do. “I can’t lie, the regulars might riot. Especially if I got to pick the show.”
She chuckled again. “That’s right. You like space-y escapism. Oh! We can watch one of Chick’s movies before he gets here. Mutant Bounty is the most popular. Though according to him…” She blew a raspberry and offered up a thumbs down.
“Bad sci-fi doesn’t exist.” Although the thought of her friend was putting a bad taste in my mouth today.
“You’re going to eat those words.”
If she hadn’t been drinking or feeling vulnerable, she’d be on her back by now and I’d be eating something a lot more satisfying than words. I hadn’t had a chance to try that with her yet.
And you won’t tonight, so get a grip.
“Go set it up while I make popcorn.”
“Yes, sir, Motor Daddy.” She saluted and I ground my teeth together at another unexpected wave of really fucking inappropriate arousal.
I closed the albums, turned off the music and put the bottle back in the pantry, setting it high enough that she’d have to find a step stool to get to it tonight. By the time I was through, the popcorn was done, the movie was starting and I’d gotten myself under control.
This was what she needed right now. A friend. I could be that for her.
Twenty minutes in, I was ready to admit defeat, in more ways than one.
What was going on with the bounty hunter, anyway? Was he a prince? Was he dying? Was he really that bad at his job? Because so far, he’d gotten his ass beat five times and hadn’t caught a single clue.
Is the distraction making you feel better?
No, it was not.
The problem wasn’t really the movie—that actually had a cult classic feel and some decent CGI. But I couldn’t pay attention to the plot, or the lack of one, with my dick working so hard to get my attention.
August was falling asleep against me. Her feet were curled up behind her, full breasts pressed into my side and one hand open on my stomach, too close to my erection for comfort.
I needed to leave.
The old me would have. Good old reliable Wade would have carried her to her bed, tucked her in and left another bottle of water and an aspirin within arm’s reach before locking the door behind him.
Instead, I was hard as a rock and fighting my desire to pull her closer, torturing myself by reliving the sexual adventures we’d had together over the last week. Along with more meetings like the one we had in my office, I’d gone to an adult store for the first time in my life and purchased a pink vibrator, thinking she might like the experience.