Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 100680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Aston. That’s as useless as crying.
There was a loud beeping before the car behind him drove around him.
Maxim didn’t even flinch or spare them a glance.
“You need to watch where you’re going.” Not that she cared if he crashed or anything.
Actually, yes, she did. She didn’t want him to die or get hurt. Maybe a paper cut. They really hurt.
Oh, crap. She didn’t even want him to get a paper cut. Things would be so much easier if he was an actual jerk and she could pray for him to fall down the nearest sink-hole.
“Come here, Aston,” he ordered.
Shoot.
“No,” she told him. “Watch the road!”
“I’ll watch it if you get into my car.”
She let out a loud groan. He was insufferable.
“Fine!” She stomped toward him, giving the person driving the car behind him an apologetic smile.
She was fairly certain they gave her a middle finger back. But it was hard to see properly in the rain. So she was going to pretend that they’d waved.
When she got to the door, Maxim leaned across to open it. She hopped in and put her stuff down before leaning over to close it.
A beep sounded from behind them.
“Maxim, go,” she urged.
“Put your belt on.”
“Maxim!”
“Aston. Belt. Now.”
Urgh, he could be so annoying sometimes. How could he go from carefree to all bossy and commanding? She never knew where she stood with him.
She quickly belted up as another car shot around him.
“You’re making friends.”
“I always do, Rainbow. I always do,” he said cheerfully.
See? It was like he had some sort of personality disorder. She couldn’t keep up.
“There were only a few more blocks to go,” she muttered.
“Safety first. Won’t have you getting hurt on my watch.”
That shouldn’t fill her warmth. It shouldn’t. This was just stuff that people said to each other. It didn’t mean he actually cared about her.
“Or did you mean that you wanted to keep walking in the rain? Carrying a pile of microwave meals?”
Urgh. So what if she ate microwave meals? She couldn’t be bothered cooking for one person because it just made her feel sad.
She shivered and he directed the heater vent so the warm air all went onto her. She glanced over at him, taking in how perfect he looked. Today he was wearing a dark blue shirt that went perfectly with his complexion. He also had on jeans that she bet cost more than she made in a week.
And his car . . . his car was divine. Heated seat and leather interior. That she was likely ruining with her wet clothes and hair.
“You suck.”
He laughed. “Why? Because I’m dry, and you’re not?”
“Yes.”
Really mature, Aston.
Why’re you walking around in a storm, Rainbow?” he asked as he drove toward their apartment building.
“I figured it meant that I wouldn’t have t-to wash my c-clothes if I walked in the r-rain.”
“Ahh, smart thinking. Very environmentally friendly of you.”
“I thought so.” She sneezed.
“Aston,” he said warningly. “What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that my bus broke down and I just wanted to get home rather than wait for a replacement.”
“The bus again,” he said in a dark voice. “You need to stop taking it.”
“Sure, I’ll just walk everywhere instead.” Was he nuts? She couldn’t walk to work. Not to mention that her ankle was still a bit sore from the slight sprain the other day.
“It’s not safe.”
“It’s fine.” She rolled her eyes.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me, Rainbow,” he told her sternly as he found a parking spot right outside their building.
Seriously. How did he manage to find a spot so close?
“How’d you know I was rolling my eyes?” As far as she could tell, he’d been looking at the road the entire time.
“I know you that well. And you just confirmed it.”
Lord, he was hard work.
“Thanks for the ride.” She reached for the door handle, but her hand didn’t seem to want to work. Shoot. She was freezing, even with the warmth of the car.
“Wait there, Rainbow. I’ll come around for you.”
“But then you’ll get wet.”
“Gonna get wet anyway.”
“But you could make a run for it. Then you won’t get too wet.”
He sighed. “You really do have a poor opinion of me, don’t you?”
There was a comeback on her lips, but it froze there as she stared at him. Because there was something about the way he’d said it that made her think he was serious. That it wasn’t a joke.
“I don’t . . . I just don’t want you to get wet and sick.”
“And what about you?” he asked.
“Well, I’m already wet.”
A smile teased the edges of his lips and she groaned. “Do. Not. You’re better than making that sort of joke.”
“Am I, though?” he asked thoughtfully. “I’m not sure I am.”
She shook her head. But there was a smile teasing her lips as well when she grabbed the handle of the car door to try again. Why wouldn’t it open?