Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 107673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“Yeah, I heard. I’m thinkin’ about it,” I said off the cuff, hoping it would be enough. It wasn’t. He kept coming toward me, making me pivot on my heel, heading toward the nameless guy, putting space between the locals and Dash hopefully still inside the car.
“What’s there to think about?” he said, knocking me in the upper arm when I got within reach. Thankfully not the aching one.
Not a conversation for now. I cocked my thumb over my shoulder. “I gotta go. Someone’s waitin’.”
His stance changed. Now, he appeared in on a secret. “Nice ride. Those rich bitches from the resort sure like to slum it over here.” He slapped my arm and gave me a weird wink where both his eyes closed instead of just one. I didn’t care for the way he lumped me into the slums.
I nodded, attempting some form of comradery, then pivoted again. “Seeya around.” My strides were long and purposeful. I carried Dash’s can of Coke and my Dr. Pepper, the restroom key dangling from my hand. I continued around to the driver’s side, fully aware of Dash watching me the entire time.
Whatever change was happening to me rippled over my consciousness. Confidence built at lightning speed. I felt alive. Dash’s door opened, and I handed over his drink between the car and the door, while he continued to sit behind the wheel.
“You know those guys?” he asked.
“No, but they knew me, and they think you’re a hot resort girl.”
His brows wrinkled as I quietly chuckled.
“I didn’t correct ’em but I’ll stand here until you’re done. There’s a drop box that you’re to put the key into. It goes back into the store. They said don’t be gross about it and they sanitize.”
Dash’s brow wrinkled further, taking the key between his forefinger and thumb. That made my laughter grow louder. Of course he wouldn’t get the practicality of an old school restroom drop box.
I followed like a bodyguard as he went toward the back of the building. Something protective rose inside me. I’d be the sentry to guard his door.
My purpose felt damned good.
A parked car on a tree-lined street with the moon filtering through the branches made magical things happen. With my head rested against the head rest, I turned toward Dash. I was relaxed and having a good time. He sat at an angle, facing me, as far as the steering wheel allowed. The radio played the only pop-rock station around.
Twenty questions turned to fifty or even more the longer we sat together. I didn’t want to leave.
“What position did you play?” Dash asked.
“It’s my turn to ask a question,” I countered and lifted a brow when he started to shake his head, an argument on his lips. I knew that with all certainty because he’d done that very expression every time I inserted a question.
“Go ahead then,” he gave, but I could tell it didn’t come easy. “But it’s noted that anytime I bring up football, you change the subject. Do you really not like it anymore?”
“Again, my question.”
His smile that charmed me grew bigger. At different times tonight, I noticed different things about him. Right now, he looked like the after shot of Captain America. He was beautiful with the way his hair swept off his forehead and his strong jaw highlighted his wide plump lips. I liked his smile a lot.
“I get the impression you’re older than you said.”
The musical cadence of Dash’s laughter made me want to kiss him like I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone before. I watched his mouth move as he explained a question I didn’t ask. “I’ll really be sixteen on July fourth. You already know that part, but I’ll graduate from high school in December.”
Since his lips were the perfect blend of fleshy and plump, it was hard to concentrate on his words. Luckily, I caught the tail end of his explanation. “Explain further.”
“I have a high IQ. I skipped a grade in elementary then tested out of other classes. I’ll graduate in December with my associate degree. My plan is to take a gap year then start at SMU in the fall.” His finger twirled in a circle that I took to mean time passing. “I’ve already been accepted.” His gaze danced as he rolled his eyes dramatically. “I could have skipped more grades, but I didn’t want to rush my life. I felt like I needed to stay in my age range even though I’ve never really acted my age. It made sense to me at the time.”
Dash clearly thought his explanation was silly, grinning and laughing, but I didn’t see it that way. A million questions ran through my head. Did he make those decisions about his future, or did his parents? It all seemed so reasonable and mature.
“Who do you get your intelligence from?” I asked, not readily diving deeper until I knew more.