Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 147021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
“We’re just friends,” says Hollis and my dad at the same time.
“Of course.” Rainbow winks and turns to me, dropping her voice to a whisper. “They’re so cute together.”
I make a heart with my fingers. “Aren’t they, though?”
Rainbow makes the heart back. “I ship your dads so hard.”
I’d like to ship my dad’s best friend hard.
Jameson looks super confused.
“I’ll bring you coffee and menus,” she tells them. “Unless you both want the usual.”
“The usual is good,” Dad and Hollis say in unison.
“I’ll take a beer instead of coffee, though,” Hollis adds.
“Make that two,” Dad agrees. He gives me a disapproving look after she leaves.
I roll my eyes. “Let her have her fantasy.”
“I didn’t know you two were…” Jameson trails off.
“We’re not,” Dad says.
“I love pussy,” Hollis says flatly.
“Hollis.” Roman elbows him.
I nearly spray him with my coffee. I swear, Hollis is entirely unhinged right now, and I don’t even know what to do about it.
I kick him under the table, hard. Except I’m the one who flinches because I wore a stupid pair of cute flats and not practical winter boots as the weather would suggest.
He doesn’t so much as blink. “That was crass. I’m a cisgender, heterosexual male. I can’t speak for Roman, but we’ve been friends for a long time.”
“Right. Yeah. It would be totally cool if you were gay, though. I have a younger brother who is. And my aunt is married to a woman,” Jameson says helpfully.
“Hemi has two moms,” I add. Just to be part of the conversation, I guess.
“You two should dig in. Don’t wait for us.” Dad grins and reclines in his seat.
Hollis stretches his leg into my space. I’m about to kick him again, but then I remember it’s the right one, and he often does this because it’s more comfortable post-surgery.
“Do you want some waffle? We can get extra plates, so you don’t have to wait,” Jameson offers.
He’s so excited about eating with Roman Hammerstein and Hollis Hendrix. This further confirms that Jameson and I are destined to be friends only. He’s not surly enough, or old enough, or Hollis enough.
I’m so screwed.
My dad and Jameson start talking hockey, of-fucking-course. It’s not that I don’t love hockey talk, but now my date is fawning all over my dad. It’s annoying.
And my phone is blowing up. I have twenty-seven new messages in the Badass Babe Brigade chat.
Several of them are surprised and dying GIFs.
Rix messages in our private texts:
Rix
If he’s going to fuck with you, you should fuck with him back.
She makes a good point.
Hollis is ruining my date. Probably on purpose.
Aurora
He can’t take a bite out of his cake, tell his cake it was a mistake, and refuse to let anyone else eat it.
Rix
Agree. What are you going to do about it?
What am I going to do about it?
My dad and Jameson are still yammering away. I dump maple syrup all over my sausages and stab one with my fork.
Hollis eyes me with amusement. I take an angry bite.
“Honey, your knife,” Dad mutters, then goes back to talking to my date about first draft picks this season. Normally I love draft talk, but right now I’m beyond frustrated. Because I’m hiding things from my dad for one, but also, the hockey player sitting across from me is the one I’d love to be on a date with, and instead Hollis’s sabotaging the one he explicitly told me to go on.
As anticipated, my dad’s and Hollis’s meals appear a minute after their beers. They’re regulars, and everyone loves them, and Rainbow ships them. Hollis digs into his poached-egg breakfast hash, while I cut my sausages into tiny bite-sized pieces and occasionally offer my thoughts when they’re asked for by my dad or Jameson.
Hollis agrees with everything I say, especially if it contradicts Jameson. It’s irksome.
I drop my shoe on the floor and slide my foot up his calf. His gaze lifts from his plate. I keep going up the inside of his thigh. And all the while, my date and my dad keep blabbering on about who knows what. Part of me wonders if Jameson actually wanted to go out with me, or if it was an excuse to meet my dad and maybe score tickets to a game. It wouldn’t be the first time.
My big toe brushes against Hollis’s jacket, which is still draped over his lap. And I keep going. I don’t know what the hell I’m thinking, but I’m committed to this stupid, dangerous course of action.
Hollis’s gaze shifts to my dad and Jameson—neither of them is paying attention to us—and moves back to me as his hand disappears under the table. I fully expect him to shove my foot away, but that’s not what happens. At all. Instead, he moves it between his very warm, very thick, very strong thighs and presses it against the exceptionally prominent bulge behind his fly.