Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
But that did not mean I was going to get involved with him.
I was just going to finish my drink and then I was going to head out. And forget all about the bad news in a biker cut.
“Alright, come on,” Dezi said, making me look over.
“Come where?” I asked.
“Picnic. I got the plates,” he said, drawing my attention to the overflowing plates in his hands. “And the drinks,” he added, turning his ass on me so I could see the bottles in his back pockets.
Okay.
Fine.
I was going to finish my drink, that other drink, and every bite of food on that plate, and then I was heading out.
On the plus side, I would be bloated and uncomfortable from all the Chinese and pizza, so there would be no shenanigans going on.
“Why do we have to eat outside?” I asked as I followed him to a picnic table in the backyard, far enough from the clubhouse that we had more privacy than was probably wise.
“Because out here, no one is going to judge how much we are going to eat,” he told me, putting the plates down on the table, then reaching for the drinks.
And, well, I couldn’t argue that logic, not when I was planning to eat every bit of food he had. And seconds if he was offering.
“What?” I mumbled over a mouthful of pizza.
“That’s hot,” he declared.
“What is?”
“You almost finishing a piece of pizza in two bites,” he said, as he folded his own slice to take a bite.
“I haven’t eaten much today,” I admitted, leaving out that I hadn’t eaten much in a couple of weeks. Ramen and bananas with peanut butter in tortilla wraps.
Enough to keep going.
Not exactly thriving.
But I was building up my savings.
As soon as I had that, I could start splurging on better food again.
“Me either. Just a couple of tacos, some pancakes, a milkshake, a bag of chips, some donuts…”
“How do you not need a crane to carry you around?” I asked, shaking my head.
“Zaddy. Zaddy keeps me in line.”
“Who the hell is Zaddy?”
“The silver-haired biker. He’s obsessed with being healthy. He puts me on diets and workouts sometimes. It all shakes out. Toast?” he asked, holding up his spring roll.
I didn’t even particularly like spring rolls. But I was too hungry to care.
“To the incredible fucking we are going to do,” he declared just as I put the damn thing in my mouth for a bite.
“We are not going to fuck,” I told him, though it didn’t come out as convincing as I wanted it to with my mouth full of food. And my head full of doubt.
“You know, I think we might,” Dezi said, face thoughtful as he glanced up at the sky.
“Absolutely not.” Why did I sound less and less convinced each time I said that?
“Lovely meal eaten under the stars by two people with the hots for each other, something’s gonna happen.”
“Not that,” I objected, but I couldn’t even look at him because I knew what he would see on my face.
Desire.
The same desire that had me pressing my legs together to try to ease the ache between.
“What are you—” I yelped, jumping when I felt his hand at my waist.
But then I heard the sliding sound of the opener on my belt being pulled outward so he could open the next two bottles of beer.
“Jumpy,” he said, smirking, seeming to know exactly what that was. Because I was just moments away from giving in to what my body truly wanted.
“What’s your opinions on mini goats?”
“Excuse me?” I asked, sure I misheard them.
“Mini goats,” he said, glancing over at me.
“Where did that come from?”
“Just a working hypothesis in my head. What about mini cows?”
“Why is everything mini?”
“Figure all animals are cuter in a mini form. Mini cows, mini goats, mini pigs…”
“I don’t have an opinion. I’ve never really had any pets,” I admitted. “Though, I’ve partially befriended some peafowl lately.”
“What? Like peacocks? With the tails?” he asked, frowning at me.
“Yeah. There are some at my job. My other job,” I clarified. “Sometimes they are in the middle of the road. So I gave them names and stories. Scotty. And his cheating girlfriend Fiona.”
“Who is she cheating with?”
“The swan.”
“So, we’re going to assume you like animals, just haven’t been exposed to them much. Grew up in cities, huh?” he asked.
“I… yeah,” I admitted, knowing I should be uncomfortable sharing personal details, but I somehow wanted to talk about it. “So unless rats the size of small dogs or cockroaches count as pets…”
“I befriended a pigeon once,” Dezi said. “Fed ‘em. Eventually, he brought his old lady over to the window box and made some babies there too. Got to watch ‘em grow up. Cool shit. Fucking ugly little bastards when they’re little, but still cute.”
“Have you ever lived in a place with a yard?” I asked.