Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
“Are you going to let me live vicariously or ruin the illusion?”
She’s too ridiculous to argue with. Closing my eyes, I can almost remember the feel of the air crackling between us. I suck in a slow and staggering breath, and then whisper, “We talked but didn’t need to fill the silence. It felt good, easy, and a little zap sparked between us when I caught him looking at me. I can’t explain it. It was no big deal, though I felt tension in the air.”
“Sexual?”
“It’s been far too long for me to know the difference.” I lie back on the bed. “I had asked if we were flirting, and he said, “Trust me, babe. You’d know if I were flirting. Just like that, all sexy and deep tones that shot right through me.”
“God, I can just imagine,” she says, her tone as dreamy as mine. “He has the most amazing voice, deep with a slight rugged rasp. Did you have sex?”
“Lauralee?” The whiplash has me bolting to my feet again and pacing. “For Pete’s sake, you think I’d only be telling you he called me babe if we had sex? I would have been texting you before I left that bed.”
Her laughter fills the line. “You’re a good friend, Chris.”
“The best, in fact.”
“Yes, I can’t argue with that.” I hear the crinkle of what I know must be a bag of gummy bears. The soft and pillowy kind. Only the best. We may not always make the best decisions with guys, but we have high standards when it comes to candy. “As for the babe,” she says, with what sounds like a mouthful of deliciousness. I take a sip of water, waiting to hear what she’s thinking. “It’s a step in the right direction. But I’m rooting for sex next time.”
“Pfffft.” The water spews from my mouth, droplets showering my bare legs. “For you or me?”
“Both.” She bursts out laughing, but the sound muffles like she’s covered her mouth. Like me, she’s stuck at home with her mom’s bedroom beneath hers. “Well, it sounds like a good night.”
I sigh after catching my breath, remembering how he rubbed my shoulder. It felt like we were friends. Not me, the little sister of his friend, but as my own being in his eyes. It felt good with him. “It was.”
“Will you see him again before he leaves?”
“I’m not sure. We didn’t have time to talk once he pulled onto the property.” My face heats from humiliation just thinking about what thoughts were running through Tagger’s mind when he saw my dad. We also now know where Baylor gets his overprotective nature. “I’m tired. I’ll fill you in on that another time.”
“You know where to find me.” There’s only a quick pause before she adds, “Hey Chris, I’m glad you can close that chapter on the crush you’ve always carried for him. Well done. Mission accomplished.”
I’m not sure what to think about that. Was it all a game of getting him to notice me? Maybe when I was younger. Tonight, though, it was more. I know it, but only time will tell. “I still don’t have any plans of getting tangled up with a guy who’s leaving in three days.”
“Tangled up or tied down. Either way, the countdown is on.”
“There’s no countdown, Laur.” Before we get caught up in circles of what-ifs, I say, “Good night, friend.”
“Good night.”
I leave the phone on the bed and go to wrap up in the bathroom. I make sure to stop by the window and look up at the stars. “Good night, Mom.” And then I climb under the covers and click on the TV. It’s just gone ten, which isn’t much earlier than I typically go to bed, but my mind is still reeling with the possibilities of how we would have ended the night if it weren’t for my dad being there.
He was caught staring at my mouth. Call me evil, but I licked my lips involuntarily. It was innocent, but I saw how he shifted. I’m beginning to think I wasn’t the only one with a fire lit inside me tonight.
I’ve always heard that the heart wants what the heart wants, but can a crush really turn into true love? I’m not so sure, and it doesn’t seem like I’m going to find out either. So it’s best if I watch TV and get my mind off him altogether.
I want the impossible.
Each hour that passes, dreams fill my head, and thoughts when I wake up are of one thing—Tagger Grange.
Damn him.
CHAPTER 8
Christine
It was three glasses of wine, but it feels a lot like a Mack truck ran over my head this morning. Lauralee is right. Wine and I don’t mix. Or we shouldn’t.
I’ll stick to beer and hard liquor instead. That makes me laugh until I wince from the pain in my throbbing brain. My mouth is as dry as a tumbleweed, but I can’t be asked to move just yet. I lie there with my arms wide as the tip of the sun makes its debut for the day.