Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 74022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“Sorry,” I laugh, croakily. “My legs are wobbly.”
“That goes away the more time you spend on a bike,” Boston tells me, but he lets me hang onto him, and I adore him for that.
When I have better control of my legs, we walk in through the front doors. I still feel tingly vibrations running through my body. I didn’t realize how rattily that bike is, but I’m not complaining. It’s a glorious feeling.
“You hungry?” Boston asks me.
“Starving!” He stares at me, and I blink. “What?”
“Never seen a woman openly admit to hunger before. You’re all usually shy and act like your stomach is not eating itself.”
I laugh. “Not me, honey. I love food. Can’t you tell?”
I look down at my jeans. I have curvy thighs, but hell if I don’t love them. They’re my best feature. Boston’s eyes drag down my body, and his lips part slightly before he looks back to me. “If eatin’ makes you look that fuckin’ good, keep it up.”
I grin at him, and his eyes lighten, just a touch, before he walks up to the counter. “What will you eat?”
“Whatever you eat,” I say, stretching. “Surprise me, I’m going to use the restroom.”
I walk off before he can answer and head to the restrooms. I do my business, splash some water on my face, tidy my hair up and then head back out to join Boston who is waiting at a table. I sit across from him, and his eyes lock onto mine almost immediately. It feels nice, to have someone solely focused on me. No phone. No distractions. He’s just here, watching me.
“You like swimmin’?”
I nod. “Isn’t it a bit cold?”
“Dare to live, Chantelle.”
I grin at him. “That was poetic, Boston. I’m convinced. Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
We make general chit chat until our order is called. Boston gets the bags of food and we both walk back outside to the bike. He has little storage type bags on either side of the back seat, and he opens them and puts the food in, as well as a couple of bottles of soda, and then we climb back on. My stomach grumbles with anticipation, but the idea of getting back on the bike with him is even more thrilling.
We ride only a little way up the road and stop at a massive lake surrounded by thick forest and large green grassy patches where people are sitting on blankets, or at the wooden tables and chairs scattered about. It’s absolutely gorgeous, the water a dark greenish blue. It’s inviting, that’s for sure. And the sun is hitting it right in the middle Perfect.
We find a spot on a soft patch of grass and sit down. Boston opens the bag and passes me a wrapped item of food and a soda. I don’t wait, I open it up and reveal an incredible looking burger that makes my mouth water. Oh, God. Yum. I take a bite and moan with satisfaction. It tastes incredible. So damned good. I might just die.
“So,” I say after I’ve swallowed a few bites, “why did you decide to hang out with me?”
He takes a bite of his burger and watches me a few moments as he chews and swallows, and I take those few moments to admire the way his jaw flexes and the muscles in his cheek jump. “I like you.”
“That’s it?” I ask him, taking a sip of the cold soda. “No offense, but you don’t really seem like the type to go out of your way to make many friends. Honestly, I thought we were just having a bit of fun for a night, and that was that. I was surprised to see you this morning, but I’m certainly not complaining.”
He studies me, those eyes scanning across my face, making me feel funny inside. A good funny, the soft kind.
“Don’t usually get along with my one-night stands,” he tells me, with brutal honesty. “Been a fuckin’ long time since I’ve had decent conversation with a woman. Saskia is basically part of the club, which means you’re involved to an extent. So, why not hang out more?”
“I won’t argue with that.” I grin. “I’m always up for new friends. Especially ones with bikes.”
He grunts and takes another bite of his burger.
“You and Penny seem to be good friends, too?”
I shouldn’t question it, because it does make me feel uneasy. Mostly because I’m not entirely sure I want to know the answer. I mean, I’m flattered he felt we got along well enough to continue to try and talk to me, but I also know him and Penny get along well, too. Which is totally understandable; she’s a great girl, and very hard not to like.
“Penny is my sister’s carer, didn’t get much choice in getting along with her. But yeah, she is a friend.”