Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 140767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
Well, I am ready. Trust me, I’m ready. But I just want to make sure she’s ready. She’s a little younger than me, and I don’t know…she’s not like any of the other girls I’ve dated.
She’s different. Special. I don’t want to fuck any of it up.
And Gene Simmons and his band have spurred a game of “kiss” between the two of us. Maria puts on one of their songs, trying to get me to kiss her, and I kiss every part of her face but her lips.
It drives her nuts. But man, it’s kind of amazing at the same time. Although it’s probably also dangerous because it drives me nuts too. So nuts, in fact, that by the end of the night, I have to throw my ass in a cold shower when I get home. Let me tell you, blue balls aren’t a myth. They are the real deal.
I slide in another CD, but this time, the new song doesn’t cause a volatile reaction from Maria. It doesn’t exactly make her turn all happy either, but still, it’s progress.
It’s a Supremes greatest hits CD, and the song currently playing is called “Baby Love.”
I start to sing the lyrics out loud, giving my best Diana Ross impression. I even do a few doo-wop-style dance moves from the driver’s seat. But all I get is the side-eye from the pretty girl beside me.
Okay. Yeah. It’s time to bring out the big guns. The song Maria calls her “happy song.”
CD switched again, new song on, and Maria crosses her arms over her chest when the opening beats I know she knows like the back of her hand begin to play.
“Man, I love this song,” I say, and she refuses to look in my direction. “It always makes me happy. It’s almost like it’s my happy song, you know what I mean, Ria?”
When she doesn’t say anything, I add, “It’s too bad my favorite singing partner is mad at me. Marvin Gaye is feeling a little lost over here without his Tammi.”
“I’m not mad at you, Remy,” she says quietly but still loud enough for me to hear over the music. “I’m just mad in general.”
I don’t respond. Instead, I hold up an air microphone in front of my face and start to sing the opening lyrics.
Maria rolls her eyes, but it only takes another ten seconds before she’s watching me. And the more I sing, the more I notice her shoulders start to relax away from her ears.
“Was I being mean to you earlier?” she eventually asks me over the music, and I shrug.
“A little, maybe?”
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes with a small frown, and I hold out an air microphone toward her.
“Don’t worry, Tammi. I know just the way you can make it up to me.”
The hint of a smile starts to show on her lips.
“C’mon, Ria. You know you want to.”
Her smile is visible now, and she pretends to take the air microphone from my hands.
And then, we sing our hearts out. Eventually, both of us fall into it so much, we have to share the same air microphone.
Maria giggles when I really go nuts and start trying to mimic Marvin Gaye’s voice, and by the time it comes to an end, she can’t swipe that pretty smile from her lips.
Hell yeah. I knew I could cheer her up. Just call me the World’s Best Boyfriend.
“You just couldn’t let me be mad, could you?” she asks, turning her whole body to face me.
“Nope.” I smile. “Am I in trouble now?”
She searches my eyes for the longest moment, and when her gaze flits down to my mouth briefly, she looks back up at me with a mischievous-as-hell grin. “Only the good kind.”
“The good kind of trouble? What does that mean?”
“It means I’m going to kiss you, Remington Winslow.”
Maria has never actually said those words to me. She’s hinted at them but never voiced them in a way that made me feel like she was ready to take the bull by the horns.
“Yeah?” I gulp. “And when are you planning on doing that?”
“Right now.”
Right now? Holy shit.
She reaches out to place her hand on my cheek, and I don’t miss the way her fingers shake a little, vibrating against my skin. I half expect her to hesitate, to let her nerves get the best of her.
But she surprises the hell out of me.
Leaning forward, she places her lips to mine, and the first, ever so gentle brush of her mouth occurs. Light as a feather, the kiss lingers like that long enough that I can feel my heart getting off-balance in its spin cycle in my chest.
The urge to take it further overwhelms me. I slide my fingers into the hair at her neck and kiss her, really kiss her, right there in front of the medical center. Our mouths part and our tongues dance, and I don’t know if I’ve tasted anything as sweet as this.