Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 78470 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78470 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
I laugh. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t speak if you don’t want him to.”
She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “As long as he likes me, that’d be a good start.”
My heart still hurts for her, for the way her marriage ended, but she’s taken it in her stride. Still, I hope she’ll find a guy who adores her. At the very least, I want her to have some fun. “Ames, are you sure you don’t want to come to Vegas this weekend? Bryan will be there. And doesn’t Sebastian have the kids?”
She sighs sadly. “He does. Say hi to my bestie Bryan for me. But I think I’m going to stay here in La La Land. Watch Sweet Nothings. Find out if—”
I hold up a hand, silencing any spoilers about the mega hit we’re addicted to. “Don’t say a word about the Josie and Sam storyline. Don’t spoil what happens on the show. La la la la.”
My sister rolls her eyes. “I’m not going to watch our favorite show without you. I missed the last one when I had the kids, so I need to catch up so we can watch the next episode together.”
“Oh. I stand corrected. Carry on.”
“Anyway, then I’ll do some yoga. Eat some kale. Cruise the apps and lament the options for thirty-year-old divorcees with two kids.”
“Someday, you’re going to meet a guy who worships you,” I say, trying to be upbeat, especially since I fervently believe that.
“In the meantime, a massage would do,” she says, and this time her smile is real, her blue eyes twinkling.
“Love you,” I say, but my eyes are fluttering closed as I end the call.
Still, I fight off sleep. I don’t think I can sleep anyway, with this restless idea jostling its way to the front of my mind.
But first things first. I sit up in bed and tap out a text to my massage therapist, begging her to see me in the morning. She’s up late, so she responds right away with a time and a smiley face.
Then, I order a massage for Amy at a fancy spa near her home in Venice Beach and send her an email gift certificate.
When I’m done, I draw a deep breath and glance around my room, empty like it’s been for months. The suite I booked at The Extravagant tomorrow night will be lonely too.
But it doesn’t have to be.
I re-read Hunter’s last text.
Hunter: It’s not been a year but I’m still single, and if you are too, as luck would have it, I’ll be in San Francisco tonight. Any chance you’re free at all tomorrow? I’ve got the whole day in front of me.
It’s one day, one night, one trip. One moment. I roll the dice and reply.
Nate: I’m taking off for Vegas tomorrow with some friends. We’re going to play poker, see the Lettuce Pray concert, and just generally have fun. You want to come with me? I’ve got a suite at The Extravagant and I can get an extra ticket to the concert. I’m friends with the lead singer and he’s comping all of us.
I read the draft and grimace at how business-like it sounds. Hello, Hunter, would you like to have lunch with me and review my PowerPoint?
I think a moment, then add one more line and hit send.
Nate: If there’s a god of hot, sexy single men, you’ll say yes.
10
I WEAR MY SUNGLASSES WHEN I SAY WHAT THE FUCK
Hunter
Over the years, I’ve gone bungee jumping in Oregon. I’ve snowboarded down steep slopes in the Alps. I’ve ziplined through tropical jungles in Costa Rica.
I’ve learned that, one, it’s a damn good thing I never joined a fraternity because I have a hell of a hard time resisting dares. And two, adrenaline rules.
I’m hopped up on it as I leave my hotel on Friday morning, bounding down the stairwell and through the lobby to the Lyft waiting at the curb.
“Good morning,” the driver says as I slide into the backseat.
“Good morning, indeed. It’s going to be a good day,” I say. A wicked thrill rushes through me as the car swings out of the city.
I’m doing this.
I’m cliff-diving into twenty-four hours of sexy adventure.
I picture it as the car goes down 101 to the airport, and while my fantasies are vivid, the real details are vague. By the time the car pulls up to the departures entrance, I can’t ignore some misgivings.
Am I ready to spend twenty-four hours with a guy who’s wildly experienced, ridiculously gorgeous, and…
See? That’s the issue.
I know very little of Nate, except what I learned from our chat that one day in June—he didn’t like the ending of That’s What She Said—and from my quick tour of his condo, I could also tell he donates money to save endangered animals.
Okay, fine. I know a little more than that.