Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 88115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
She whips her head up, looking at me as if she’s seen a ghost. “That’s right; you need to remember that. You’re flying solo now, and you should be scared.” I arch my brow, leaving the curtains open as a reminder of how rough things could get if she gets out of line again.
I saunter over to her slowly, watching her form as she warily takes me in. She nervously takes a step backwards, bumping into the kitchen table, and she grabs its edge behind her with apprehension. I pervade her space with my body, and I get inches from her petite, trembling frame. I hear her breath hitch as I lean in closer. I let her think I’m going to kiss her, but I don’t. I reach behind her and grab the book off the table.
“What are you reading?” I ask, turning the book over in my hand.
“Oh, um...” she nervously whispers, confusion crossing her face over the invasion that never came. I know the game; I damn near invented it. I know how to manipulate and knock her off-track, and she falls into the trap so easily, like leading a kid to candy.
“It’s called Ancient Rome: The Rise and Fall of an Empire,” she finally replies.
“That’s not the book you were reading yesterday,” I say with a knowing grin. She flushes and glances down. I find it humorous she can’t look me in the eyes and tell me she was reading smut.
She lifts her head at the sound of my chuckle and schools her expression. “What’s so funny?”
I shake my head and let her off the hook with a grin. “Nothing, sweetheart.” I turn the book around and skim over the excerpt. “Is it any good?”
She shrugs her shoulders and takes the book from my hands. “I suppose if you like history, then yes, it’s a wonderful book. It reads like a novel; so much so, that by the time you get to the end, you don’t realize you just read a unique, real piece of history. Because it’s so highly-engaging, you actually walk away having learned a great deal of Roman history.”
“You’re amazing, you know that? I’m astonished at how much you know, and yet you’re so young,” I tell her honestly.
She tilts her head and looks at me speculatively. “I don’t feel amazing, Travis. I’m just another girl trying to enjoy what life has to offer.” She lets out a sigh. “But for some unknown reason, I was picked out of a crowd and plucked from my existence.”
I almost frown, but I catch myself, keeping my expressions unreadable. I ignore her previous statement, asking, “Yes, well, how do you know so much?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “In the scheme of things, I still know very little, but thanks to the internet, it’s possible to learn almost anything...about everything, all at your fingertips. I’ve just never been one to sit and watch a lot of TV. I’ve always entertained myself with either a book or a paintbrush.”
Suddenly, I find myself reaching out, wanting to touch her long hair, but I reverse the move and scratch the back of my neck, avoiding contact. I ask her with sincere intrigue, “Have you created a lot of art pieces?”
She bites her lip in hesitation, deciding whether or not to share a piece of her personal life with me. I get it. I’m sure she thinks I’m just making conversation regarding her personal interests to warm her up, to get back in her good graces again.
“I truly am interested, Julianna. You really are a unique young woman. Most of the girls that come through here, believe it or not, can be quite shallow. The majority of them never seem to have had any real hobbies or even have enough intellect to hold a deep conversation. Seems like most of the women our clients choose are selected for how they’ll look as arm candy. They love to go to shows, parties, dances, and discuss dialectical materialism. You don’t seem to be any of that.”
She gives me a half-smile. “Don’t get me wrong—I do enjoy a good party, dancing, and having some nice things, but I also understand that materialism is not the solution to true happiness.” She taps her heart several times for emphasis. “True happiness is in here, on the inside. It can’t be bought or sold.”
My hand decides to act on its own accord this time, and before I know it, my thumb is caressing the side of her cheek. “You’ve got somewhat of an old soul, ya know?” She stills, but she doesn’t pull away; that’s a good sign. I’m wonderstruck by this girl. The more I get to know about her, the more attached to her I feel. She’s so easy to like and converse with, and she seems so genuine.