Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“Nope, we’re watching Dexter,” I tell him. “Because you’ve made me wait nearly a whole week to watch the next episode, and I’m dying here.”
“You mean, you didn’t cheat on me and watch it already?” His laughter has stopped, and the tone in his voice is so serious, it makes me stop and look at him.
There’s something in the way he’s looking at me that makes me feel like it was some kind of test.
A test he expected me to fail.
But I didn’t.
“Of course not.” I give him a faux-annoyed look. “When I say I’ll do something, I do it.”
Something akin to relief flickers in his eyes, and it leaves a warm feeling swirling inside me.
I walk over and turn NSYNC off, and then I pick up the TV remote and toss it to him. “You set up the next episode of Dexter while I order the pizza. Anything you don’t like?” I ask him.
“Anchovies. They’re the devil. I’m good with everything else.”
“See, I knew there was a reason I liked you, quarterback.” I smirk, using his earlier words back on him.
He gifts me with a wide smile that reaches all the way up to his eyes.
I feel that smile all the way down to my toes, like a rush of adrenaline.
And I know I’m in trouble.
I’ve been summoned to my dad’s office. I don’t know what he wants me for. I don’t usually get called to his office. If he wants something, he just rings me. I’ve only been in his office once since I started working here, and that was on the day I started, so I can’t say I have a good feeling about this.
As I walk up the stairs to the second floor, where my dad’s office is, I look at the photos hanging on the wall; they’re of players in action from over the years. There’s one of Ares hanging up there, and it makes me smile.
I’m going to the cinema with Ares tonight. After saying that he wanted to watch The Big Lebowski after my, “Does the Pope shit in the woods?” quip, he told me a few days later that he saw that it’d be showing at a cinema in Greenwich Village that did late-night screenings of old movies and asked if I wanted to go.
My answer was…“Does the Pope shit in the woods?”
Clearly, I’m hilarious.
I never got to see The Big Lebowski when it was first released because I was only three at the time, so it will be cool to see it on the big screen. And, of course, I’ll be with Ares, which will make it even better.
We’ve been getting on brilliantly after our disagreement. He practically spent the whole weekend over at my place, watching Dexter. We got through a serious amount of food and episodes. We’re on season three already.
Although I did have to kick him out on Sunday, as I had arranged to go shopping with Missy.
Well, it was more like window-shopping for me, as I’m trying to save money to pay my dad back. It was fun. I hadn’t had a girlie shopping day in forever.
I’ll be sad when Missy goes back to Dartmouth, but we’ve promised to message all the time, and she even invited me to come visit. No frat parties though.
But, when she goes back, I’ll still have Ares here to hang out with. Actually, I think I’ve spent more time with him these past few weeks than I have Missy.
Although the more time I spend around him, the more my feelings for him grow. I’m keeping them under wraps, but I need to get a handle on them because unrequited feelings for someone who is turning out to be a good friend is not a path I want to go down. I need to keep my head straight.
Because I’m allowing myself to mistake friendly things he does as something more, which it isn’t. Like, when he passes me something and his fingers brush over mine, my wanting mind tells me that he did it on purpose. Or, when I think I’m feeling him watching me, but when I look at him, he’s not.
My stupid heart is whispering foolishness to my brain, and I need to put a stop to it.
Ares sees me as a friend only. And that’s enough.
It’s more than enough.
It’s way more than I ever thought I would have.
After the crash, I thought my life was over.
But look at me. I have a job. It might not be the one I want, and I still might not be painting, but it’s a start.
I haven’t had a drink in seven months.
I have two new, great friends in my life. I might have the hots for one of them—Ares—but that’s just a crush, and it will pass soon.
Life is good.
I’m still smiling when I reach my dad’s office door. I knock once and then walk in.