Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
A heavy sigh is expelled on the launch of her saying, “I should go.” She’s lifting to her feet and dusting the sand from her jeans before I have a say in the matter.
I’m not sure what just happened, but she’s right. I’m not looking for another friend, and she’s not looking for a distraction. I stand, wiping the sand from my jeans, then grab the trash. It’s tempting to ask all the questions populating my mind.
Why the rush?
Other plans?
Can I see you again?
Keep your mouth shut, Faris.
We walk to the parking lot, and I dump the trash in the bin. Producing her car key, I hold it in the air. “Thanks for the car.”
“Anytime.” When she smiles again, it’s as if there’s more she wants to say or time she’d like to burn with me. Or maybe I’m reading her all wrong. She takes the keys and looks down at them in her hand, fidgeting through the few on the ring. “I can give you a ride home.” Looking back up, she adds, “I don’t mind.”
“The offer is enticing, but—”
“I’m happy to give you a ride.” She cuts through two cars to get to hers, then turns back, still moving to her car. “Unless you’re worried that I’m going to stalk you.” Shrugging with her arms out to the sides, she laughs. “You willing to take the risk?” She’s damn cute and even more enticing. Stopping in the middle of the parking lot, she huffs. “I double-dog dare you, Shane Faris.”
I start walking because I never could pass up a dare. “Since you double-dog dared me . . .”
9
Cate
I catch Shane sneaking peeks at me when he thinks I’m not looking. I swear his gaze softens, and my heart softens along with it. A gentle pitter-patter that leaves me wondering where we go from here. Other than the divorce attorney’s office, that is.
There’s no arrogance tucked into the corners of his mouth when he smiles at me. His eyes don’t seem to hide any agendas to keep me on guard. But I still need to be careful with him. He’s someone who “lives life to the fullest” as he puts it. That’s not a lifestyle that meshes well with the predictability of my comfort zone.
Responsible.
Dependable.
Beige and boring.
I can’t seem to set aside that he basically insinuated my life is orderly, in those exact words, too. Just another reason to safeguard my heart and keep him solidly in the friend zone. No harm in having a good time for a few hours that doesn’t include a bed. That will probably be new for him and a nice change of pace as well.
We’re finally moving through traffic again, and I turn as directed. I have always loved the tree-lined streets of Hollywood Hills, but it still surprises me that he lives here. “Do you still surf?” I ask, glancing at him when I come to a stop sign.
“Not as much as I’d like.”
“Living by the beach might help.”
He nods. “When I’m home for longer periods, I’ll hit the waves with Laird sometimes.”
I take a left, driving higher into the hills. “I’m failing in my stalking duties. Hope you don’t mind the questions.” That earns me a smile.
“I don’t.”
“Do you tour a lot?” I try to keep my eyes on the road but prefer looking at him. He’s a very attractive . . . friend, I remind myself once again.
“The band always tours during the summer months, but we’ve been going since April of this year.”
“It’s August.”
His head drops back on the headrest. “Yeah, it was a world tour to support our new album,” he replies, staring out the side window. “It ends next month.”
“Now I understand why you’re exhausted.”
“I love what I do.”
“I’m sure, but it doesn’t mean you don’t burn out.” I pull in front of a gate and brake. “How long are you home?” I ask, sounding very stalkerish.
Maybe he felt the same way because of the grin leading to a soft chuckle. “I leave tomorrow morning.” He still answered without hesitation.
Shifting into park, I angle toward him. “Am I reading you all wrong? You said you love what you do, but you don’t seem excited . . .” When his eyes connect with mine, I whisper, “Or happy.”
He shifts a wry grin into place, but it isn’t natural. Not when deeper emotions hide in the depths of his eyes. “I’m about to get a divorce. What’s there to be happy about?” He chuckles, but it’s kept under wraps before humor has a chance to amp it up. He looks at the iron gate, a wall of steel blocking the view of the property. “You know where I live now.” He gives me a wink along with a click of his tongue. “Don’t break in and murder me in my sleep, okay?”