Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Maya: I can’t imagine that happening, but you’re right. I’m just going to enjoy the time we have and let myself feel whatever I need to feel. And when it’s over, I’ll say goodbye and be grateful for the memories.
Elaina: Sounds like a plan. But text me if you need more advice or a shoulder to cry on when he turns out to be married or in the mob or married AND in the mob or secretly addicted to trimming his toenails with his teeth.
Maya: Gross. That’s disgusting, and Anthony is not disgusting.
Elaina: Oh, Anthony, is it? That’s a nice name. Very classic. Very Italian. Is he Italian? I love a dark-eyed Italian man. All that olive skin and boundless testosterone. But be warned, he could still be gross. Men are mostly gross. That’s why I’m becoming a lesbian…as soon as I can convince myself that I like girls as more than friends. I’ve been reading some really hot girl-on-girl romance, but so far, it’s just making me want to grab Griffin from the pub and ride him all night. Even though he’s clingy as hell and the neediest one-night-stand ever.
Maya: Maybe because you keep going back for more than one night? Don’t mess with Griffin. He’s already half in love with you. You’re going to break his squishy little heart.
Elaina: Ugh. Fine. But there are literally no other decent, unattached men around here. Maybe I need to make a sex run to the city… Does Anthony have any hot friends?
Maya: I’m not sure. But if he does, I doubt I’m going to meet them. We’re kind of keeping things between us. Making the most of the time we have alone.
Elaina: Aw, that’s so romantic! Mark my words, woman, this is going to end up being more than a fling. I feel it in my bones. He’s going to need more Maya in his life and show up on your doorstep in Sea Breeze, hungry for fresh lobster and your incomparable pussy.
Maya: I doubt it, but that’s okay. Like you said, I’m going to live in the now and let the future take care of itself.
Elaina: All right. But if you decide you want more, don’t be afraid to ask for it, woman. You’re a keeper and a half and it’s time everyone—including YOU—realized it. From what you’ve said, it sounds like Anthony might be the first man you’ve dated who doesn’t have his head completely up his ass.
I stare at her words, torn between feeling touched and…depressed.
Anthony doesn’t have his head up his ass, but he didn’t choose me, either. Not really.
Twyla made it clear that her escorts have the right to refuse a match without even giving a reason why, and that they’re never penalized for refusing a date, but still…
Anthony is getting paid to be with me. Even his generosity in feeding me and Pudge has to be viewed through that lens. After all, even after Twyla’s cut and whatever he’s spending on groceries, he’s going to make at least seven thousand dollars from having me in his bed for a week.
I’m sure the “friend” who stayed in this guest room before me didn’t pay nearly that much.
Or maybe that “friend” was another client…
The thought makes my stomach turn and the warm, giddy feelings seep from my body. I don’t want to think about Anthony with another woman, and I really don’t want to think about that woman sleeping in the bed where I lost my virginity last night.
So, I won’t.
“Present moment, present moment,” I chant as I text Elaina a quick goodbye and head back into the kitchen, refusing to let jealousy ruin a single second of our day.
Anthony’s an escort. Being with other women is his job. I can’t get upset about that. It wouldn’t be fair.
Besides, I’m not sharing him with anyone else right now. This week is mine—ours—and I mean to relish the heck out of it.
“Food’s ready, just waiting on the toast,” he says, motioning to the two place settings on the other side of the island, where two leather stools are tucked beneath the overhang. “You good with eating here? Or do you want to take plates into the living room?”
“Here is good, thanks,” I say, walking past the delicious-smelling omelets to meet Anthony by the toaster.
He smiles as I approach. “You changed.”
“I did,” I say, pausing in front of him and tipping my head back to hold his gaze.
“You look good in pink, but I confess I was hoping to get you out of your clothes again before you put new ones on.”
“You can still get me out of my clothes,” I say. “Maybe in the shower after breakfast? I could use a shower. I was a very dirty girl last night.”
“You were the sexiest girl last night,” he says, looping his arm around my waist and drawing me against him. “What did I do to deserve a week with you, Maya Swallows?’