Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
This time when the man leaped into my thoughts, before I knew it, I was typing Chase Parker into the Facebook search bar. My gasp was audible when his face popped up. The flutter I felt in my chest was pathetic. God, he’s even more gorgeous than I remembered. I clicked to enlarge the photo. He was dressed casually, wearing a white T-shirt, jeans with a rip at the knee, and black Chucks. It was a good look for him. After spending a full minute appreciating his sexy face, I zoomed in and noticed the emblem on his T-shirt: Iron Horse Gym. There was one on the same block as the restaurant where we’d met. I wondered if he lived nearby.
Unfortunately, I wouldn’t find out. None of his bio was set to public. In fact, the only picture I could see was that one profile picture. I’d need to send him a friend request and have him accept if I wanted to see more. Although tempted, I decided against it. He would probably think I was nuts sending a friend request to a guy who thought I was a bitch (and told me as much), who I’d met while we were both on dates with other people, and after a full month had passed.
But that didn’t stop me from screenshotting his photo so I could look at it again later. After several more minutes of daydreaming about the man, I gave myself an adult pep talk. You need to find a job. You need to find a job. You have only one week of work left after this one. Get your ass off of Facebook.
It worked, and for the next fifty minutes I scoured the help wanted ads for something—anything—that sounded remotely cosmetics-marketing related, or even just remotely interesting. I knew I shouldn’t bank on just the two interviews I had scheduled so far, but there wasn’t much out there. By the time my doorbell buzzed, I felt deflated about ever finding a job to replace the one I’d held for the last seven years and, until recently, loved.
Bryant’s kiss when I opened the door definitely went a long way toward changing my mood. It was only our second date, but he certainly had potential.
“Well, that was a nice hello,” I breathed.
“I’ve been thinking about doing that all day.”
I smiled up at him. “Come on in. I’m almost ready. I just need to grab my bag and get my phone from the charger.”
He pointed to the front door after closing it behind him. “Did you have a break-in or something? What’s with all the extra locks?”
My front door had a regular lock and three deadbolts. Normally, I would answer honestly and explain that I felt safer with an extra lock or two and leave it at that. But Bryant wasn’t most dates. He was really trying to get to know me, and if he pried further—as I worried he might—I’d be forced to open up about some things I wasn’t ready to yet.
So I lied. “The building manager is big on security.”
He nodded. “Well, that’s good.”
As I was clasping on a necklace in my bedroom, I yelled out to Bryant, “There’s wine in the fridge, if you want.”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
When I came out from the bedroom, he was sitting on the couch. My laptop was still open next to him from my job search.
I spoke as I fastened my earrings. “So what are we going to see?”
“I figured we could decide when we get there. There’s a Vin Diesel flick I want to see. But since I’m an hour late, I won’t argue if you aren’t a fan.”
I smiled. “Good, because I’m not. I was thinking more along the lines of that new Nicholas Sparks movie.”
“Pretty steep punishment for being late. It was only an hour, not three days,” he teased.
“That’ll teach you.”
Bryant stood as I walked over to shut my laptop. “By the way, who’s the guy in your background?”
My brow furrowed. “What guy?”
He shrugged. “Tall. Messy hair that would look stupid on me. I’m hoping it isn’t an ex-boyfriend you’re secretly hung up on. Looks like he belongs on an Abercrombie bag.”
Not having a clue what he was talking about, I opened my laptop back up to take a look. Shit. Chase Parker greeted me. When I’d saved his picture from Facebook, I must have inadvertently also set it as my screen background. Seeing that gorgeous face again, I grew flustered. Yet Bryant was waiting for an answer.
“Umm… That’s my cousin.”
It was the first thing that popped into my head. After I said it, I realized it was a little bizarre to have a picture of your male cousin set as your background. So I attempted to fix it with more lies—something out of character for me.
“He’s a model. My aunt sent me some of his recent headshots and asked for an opinion on which I liked best, so I downloaded them to my laptop. My friend Jules was drooling over them and set one as my background. I’m so low-tech, I don’t even know how to change it.”