Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 122216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
My phone dings in my purse. I reach in and pull it out to see it’s Laura.
Laura: Your dot is moving. Where are you going?
Me: To the pet store. How do you do that?
She always knows when I leave the house. It’s part of why I started calling her a spy.
Laura: Magic. Your car is still here.
Me: I’m with Satan Claus.
I should probably call him Brendan now that we’ve kissed. Plus, he made me breakfast and admitted to being my oddly cute stalker, so I think it’s safe to say we should be on a first-name basis.
“All good?” His eyes flick to my phone.
“It’s my friend, Laura. She always knows when I leave the house. I think she’s a spy,” I joke. “We actually don’t text much. She normally just pops in.”
“May I?” he asks when we stop at a red light, then holds his hand out for me to give him my phone. I pass it to him, though I’m not sure why I do.
He clicks on her name then turns the screen back to me. “You share your location with her.”
I stare at the screen. “I do? That’s kind of cool, but I’m not sure how I started doing that.”
“Want me to turn it off?”
“Meh.” I don’t really care. It’s not like I go anywhere too far. It looks as though my life is filled with people who stalk me.
“She doesn’t share her location with you.” He shrugs and hands me my phone back.
An odd look comes over his face. I can tell that Laura tracking my location has made him uncomfortable.
“Because she’s a spy,” I tease again. He doesn't laugh. I drop back in my seat. Of course my brain starts going crazy thinking about why she wouldn't share her location with me.
My phone dings again in my hand. When I look down, I see a new number.
The worried look is gone, and he’s giving me a cocky smile. “It’s mine. Program me in.”
I smile and do just that, putting him on my contacts as “Satan Claus.” He pulls up to the pet store and parks the car.
“I need a pic for my bubble.” I hate when a contact on my phone doesn't have a personal picture. I turn my camera on and get ready to take a picture of him. He unsnaps my seat belt, and before I know what’s happening, he pulls me into his lap. I laugh as I cozy up to him.
“I want you in it.” He kisses me below the ear. “Do a selfie.”
I do. My cherry-red cheeks from blushing show as he snuggles into my side for me to take the picture. He pulls out his own phone to take a picture for himself.
My phone dings again. This one says Satan Claus is now sharing location with you. “How do I share with you?” I wiggle in his lap, already way too excited about this.
My thighs tingle as I feel the result of what all of my wiggling has done to him. I’ve never been in such an intimate position with a man. I clench my legs together, knowing that we can’t do anything in the pet store parking lot. I smile to myself, though, knowing that I want to.
“I’m your stalker, angel. I don’t need you to share your location. I always know where you are,” he says as he kisses me lightly on the lips, the feeling both new and somehow familiar. “Let’s get out of this car before I do more than kiss you.” I think he’s teasing but the tension in him says otherwise. He opens his door and helps us both out, and I look up at the frosted Christmas windows with images of cats in Santa hats and dogs dressed as elves. Of course the cats are in charge and the dogs are subservient. This pet store knows what’s up.
I look around the parking lot. This place looks really busy. He wraps an arm around me, pulling me into his side. “What are we going to do about our cats being in love? We can’t separate them now. They might get heartbroken.”
“I …” I trail off, because I’m not sure what we should do. I don’t want to break Mrs. Claws’s heart. “Won’t she be sad if she’s not with me, too?” I know I’ve only had her for a night, but I am clearly a clinger. That’s even more evident given how my fingers are digging into the back of Brendan’s sweater so he stays close as we enter the pet store. I feel safe when he’s around. I know he won’t let anything happen to me.
“We’ll work it out, angel. Sleepovers maybe.” He kisses the top of my head and grabs one of the green shopping carts.
Sleepovers? Does he mean just the cats or … I push the thought away. It’s too soon, and I don’t even know my way around friendships, much less real relationships. So it doesn’t matter if the thought of being with him lights me up like a Christmas tree, because the horny little elf inside me is going to have to settle down. At least, that’s what should happen. In truth, my clinger levels are shockingly high, but I can’t seem to help it.