Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 67000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
I just felt like if he knew he needed the room on his plate for the syrup, he should ask for a bigger plate. Which he never did.
He ate his eggs, sausage, hashbrowns, and toast, then moved onto the pancakes.
And I watched as, bite after bite, he ate through the entire stack.
It was only as he was getting to the very middle that I knew he’d either forgotten, or purposefully ignored my request.
“Can I have a bite, now?” I asked when I saw him cut the middle piece in half.
He ignored me, then proceeded to reach for the last bite.
“Frederick,” I said when he speared it with his fork. “Please can I have the bite, now?”
The way he looked so offended solidified my resolve. Today would be the last day. I wouldn’t keep pretending that I wanted to spend time with this man.
He narrowed his eyes. “You know this is my favorite part of the pancake.”
Actually, I didn’t.
But that didn’t negate the fact that he knew I wanted a bite, and that I’d asked him in plenty of time before he’d gotten to the best part.
Deflated, I finished off my sushi, chips, and drink.
When the waiter came by, I smiled at him and said, “We’re separate.”
Frederick stilled, his last bite of pancake on his fork, as if he was just leaving it there to taunt me.
Usually, I allowed him to pay because he felt like it was the man’s job to pay.
And I’d allowed it.
Only, today had proven that I just needed to walk away.
“Sure thing,” he said. “Who gets the appetizer?”
Well, since Frederick was the one to eat it since it was fuckin’ cornbread, and I didn’t like cornbread…
“His.” I smiled sweetly at him, then handed him my card.
When I turned back to survey Frederick, he still had that last bite on his fork, as if he was contemplating letting me have it if it would help get me out of the mood I was in.
Spoiler alert, it wouldn’t work.
“Want it?” he asked, holding the fork out.
I shook my head resolutely, waited for him to finish his bite, then said, “It’s been fun, Fred. But I gotta be honest. I don’t feel any sort of connection to you. Honestly, you just annoy me.”
Frederick’s mouth dropped open, as if he couldn’t quite comprehend what I’d just said to him.
There was a low chuckle behind me, but I didn’t look back to see who I’d amused.
“What are you talking about?” Frederick asked, sounding bored. “You love me.”
I snorted. “Uh, no. I don’t. But it’s been fun.”
The waiter came back with my card and the receipt. I signed, then got up from my chair.
“Where are you going?” he asked. “You’re not going to talk about this with me? I let you have the more comfortable seat!”
I nearly rolled my eyes.
“No,” I said as I left.
Or tried to.
Because the moment I turned to make my way through the maze of tables past the bar, I came to a sudden halt when my gaze lit on a familiar man blocking the majority of the walking space with his big, muscular body.
The man who’d done the winking earlier in the day was at the bar right behind me, a stack of pancakes on his plate.
“Do you share meals?” I asked curiously as I came to his side.
He snorted. “No. Never. I like food.”
Same, man. Same.
Relief hit me. “Thank God.”
He offered up a bite of pancakes, which happened to be the very middle, and I don’t know what came over me.
All I could think about was how badly I wanted that bite off his fork… So, I leaned over and took the bite.
My eyes stayed connected with the gorgeous green eyes that reminded me of the tall grass field next to our house that my dad refused to plant or let cows graze on because it was so gorgeous in the middle of spring.
So, so green. Green for miles.
My lips closed over the fork, and I groaned.
“Gosh, that’s good.” I pulled back, licking my lips.
Those beautiful, grass green eyes sparkled as he said, “Sure is.”
He speared another bite and offered it to me, brows lifted. “One more?”
I took one more.
And when I got home that night, the only thing on my mind was that I wished I’d see him again.
I didn’t think that when I saw him, though, it’d be with him accusing me of a crime.
One which I might, or might not have, committed.
What’s the key to happiness? Unfollowing people in real life.
—Quaid to Ellodie
QUAID
“You’re fuckin’ joking.”
I rolled my eyes and leaned back in my recliner, very much aware that we were going to watch this stupid fucking TikTok at least ten more times.
“Watch him slide across the hood like Bo Duke.” Dad chuckled.
I did, impressed with how well I’d executed the maneuver.
“And all that in front of a girl.” My triplet brother, Quincy, laughed.