Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 185785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 185785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
I had her pegged as the type to get pregnant immediately after a six-figure wedding day, and do it back-to-back, then she’d go to the gym as soon as she was allowed after that second birth, so she’d get her figure back and hire around-the-clock nannies until those kids were old enough to go to boarding school.
She wanted something serious with me. But she didn’t want me working nights. She always bitched about the fact that we’d see each other after eleven o’clock most nights. She wanted a husband who’d be home for dinner every night, which would be on the table at six o’clock sharp. She didn’t want to fuck against the wall in a filthy trash-laden alley outside a nightclub because she looked good and I couldn’t keep my hands off her. She didn’t want her makeup messed up on the way out the door by my kissing her with too much passion. Didn’t wanna give blowjobs, do anal, or make sex remotely interesting.
Until she did, I guess. And it’s too late.
She wasn’t that interesting. She wasn’t very good in bed. She didn’t make me laugh. She cared nothing about my life other than how it impacted her future. We barely had a thing in common beyond that I liked how she looked and she liked how much money I have.
She didn’t make me feel what I felt already with Violet. I’d take Violet with her face scrubbed clean of makeup in her baggy clothes and silly unicorn hoodie over Kenya in lingerie and red lipstick any day.
“Zack. What’s up?”
“Iadanza got into a bar fight. He’s in the drunk tank for the night.”
“Interesting. Anything else?”
“Nothin’. Stupid argument over a sports thing on the television. I may or may not have instigated it, so he’d have a babysitter for the night.”
I bark out a laugh.
“Since he’s under wraps for the night, I’m goin’ home to bed. I’ll have one of my guys follow him back from the drunk tank in the morning.”
“Works for me. Thanks, man.”
I head back out to the dining table and she’s staring out the window, her burger in her hand, dangling. A glob of orange sauce drips out, onto her wrist and she jolts.
She wipes up the mess and immediately starts eating, looking like she wants no part of conversation.
I sit down and take a bite of my burger. It’s not gone completely cold, but close.
“I’m gonna give this a zap. You?”
She shakes her head and swallows. “Mine’s okay.”
I can see she’s completely worked into a state of stress, so I decide to let her off the hook. “What about a movie? Wanna watch something while we eat?”
“Sure,” she says quickly.
I grab the remote and hand it to her. “Go ahead. Find something.”
“What do you wanna watch?” She pops a fry into her mouth and then takes a sip of her shake.
“Whatever.”
“Chick flick?” she tries, looking sheepish.
And I like that she’s got a sense of humor despite that she’s stressed, despite that she’s nervous to be alone with me.
“You want me to fall asleep, don’t you?”
Her shoulders shake with silent laughter.
“I don’t mind,” I say. “Whatever you wanna watch.”
By the time I’m back to the table with my warmed-up food, she’s put on Dumb and Dumber.
I’ve never seen it, but it’s aptly named.
We eat and then I suggest we move to the couch.
She tells me to go ahead, and she’ll be right over. She disappears into her room while I pause the movie and get rid of the trash from the food.
I sit on one of my two couches and wait.
She comes back and sits on the other couch.
Knew it. Make me want to throw one of my couches off the balcony, but I let her have this play.
She frequently laughs watching the movie and I find myself smiling non-stop because her laughter is infectious.
“You see this before?” she asks me at one point.
“Naw. You?”
“About ten times,” she tells me, dimples on display, and this makes me smile bigger that she’s laughing this hard at something she’s seen so many times.
When it ends, she immediately jumps up. “Well, I’m pooped. Goodnight. Thanks again for today.”
Before I get a chance to reply, she’s hustling down the hall.
I stare out the window while the credits roll, deep in thought until I decide to crash, myself.
***
It’s Sunday morning, and I’m woken up with the smell of food.
I didn’t sleep too badly last night. Because Iadanza is in the drunk tank? Maybe. I’m glad I didn’t wake up in bed with her because that could’ve induced more stress for her after yesterday’s kiss and I don’t want that.
I do, absolutely, want to sleep beside that girl, to fuck her until she falls asleep from exhaustion and then to wake her up with my cock, tongue, and fingers again the next morning, but I know she isn’t ready.