Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 135604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Typically, I wouldn’t be in the mood to discuss Jamie, ever, but since I was sure everything that went down was all one big joke, I was humoring her.
In fact, I wasn’t just sure. I was positive.
There was no way Jamie McCade had seriously roped me into a sex competition.
Propping my feet up on the coffee table, I muted the TV, then held the phone between my ear and my shoulder as I twirled some noodles on my fork.
“He sounded pretty serious to me,” Syd argued. “And I honestly don’t think he’s ever lost at anything. I believe him when he says that. I think you need to prepare yourself.”
“He was joking, hon. And why are we even talking about that loser? Who cares?”
“He knows your weaknesses.”
“Excuse me?” I asked around a mouthful of pasta. “What weaknesses?”
I hadn’t told Syd about the kiss Jamie had forced on me before I gently nudged him with my car, so she couldn’t know how my traitorous body reacted to that.
She wasn’t going to know about it either. Nobody was. I was taking that to the grave.
But I refused to be in denial with myself. It wasn’t healthy and there was no point. Because my body reacted and I felt that reaction for hours afterward, there was no disputing it; I had a weakness when it came to that beautiful loser.
His stupid, obnoxious, fuck-me perfect mouth.
“Well, for one, you don’t hate what he looks like,” she suggested. “He could use that to his advantage and start testing the ‘no shirt, no service’ policy at Whitecaps.”
I rolled my eyes and swallowed. “He has no idea I find him attractive,” I countered, twirling more noodles.
“I’m pretty sure he thinks everyone finds him attractive. Even people who have never seen him.”
My hand stilled. I really couldn’t argue that. “Fine. Next,” I prompted.
“Then there’s the dahlias,” she reminded me.
I breathed in deep through my nose and released it slowly.
Unbelievable. Out of all the flowers that jerk could’ve brought me, he somehow managed to pick my favorite.
“Dumb luck. What about them?”
“You displayed them in your kitchen after letting Jamie think you didn’t want them, meaning you really did want them.”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t know that,” I said, letting my fork hover in the air. “He saw me toss them in the trash and I didn’t fish them out until after he paid his tab and left. And I didn’t keep them because he gave them to me. I kept them because they were beautiful and the vase was classy as shit.”
And expensive. It was now the nicest vase I owned.
She sighed. “Still. That was very sweet of him. Just like what he did to Wes’s car. He didn’t need to do that, and he did. That was for you, Tori.”
My heart seized, causing my body to jerk and tense up. I shoveled pasta into my mouth. Nope. I was not admitting to that, nor was I going to think about it. No way.
“Next,” I encouraged, chewing and swallowing my bite.
Syd chuckled. “Um, I don’t think I need to offer up any more examples. Those are pretty concrete,” she said, her voice light with triumph. “He knows you find him attractive, he’s capable of laying on the sweet and giving you something besides his arrogance, and he’s seen what it takes to break through and reach your soft. Knowing Jamie, he’ll be aiming for it again now that he knows you got one.”
“My soft?” I questioned, brow furrowed.
“Your heart, Tori.”
Oh, please. My girl was living in lover’s land and was apparently drinking the Kool-Aid if she thought Jamie ever hit me that deep.
“This is ridiculous,” I murmured.
“It’s not. And I think you’re underestimating him.”
“He was joking, Syd. No way would Jamie make a bet he’s guaranteed to lose.”
“It’s not a guarantee.”
“Yes, it is,” I stressed.
“He hit your soft, Tori. He’s capable of hitting it again. I just know he is.”
I dropped my fork into the bowl and sat it in my lap, gripped my phone, and braced myself to argue until my tongue grew tired.
“Syd—”
“He wasn’t joking,” she interrupted, nearly hollering at me. “Okay? He was serious and meaning this bet between you two, and I think you need to be prepared for what’s coming.”
I blinked rapidly, feeling wrinkles gather on my forehead. What the …
Speaking of bets, I’d put money on Syd pacing whatever room she was in right now and doing it while twisting a lock of her hair around her finger.
Something was off. Her voice jumped with anxiousness. She sounded edgy and maybe a little too sure of herself.
So I started fishing.
“Why do you sound like that?” I questioned.
“Why do I sound like what?” she questioned back with no change in her tone.
“Like that. Like you know something.”
“I don’t know anything. I’m just saying, it’s not a guarantee he’ll lose and you need to be ready.”