Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 48632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
“Kitten.” His warning doesn’t do much. I lick my lips, toss a quick smile at him, and then move as fast as I can in order to get what I need done and come back to him.
I’m nearly at a run with how fast I’m walking, taking the steps just as quickly when I come up on them. I go through the paces of situating all the bags in one hand to wrestle the deadbolt and door handle. I’ve apparently decided to throw caution to the wind since Matthew met me at the grocery store. I shouldn’t let my guard all the way down yet, except the sensation of someone watching or following me has disappeared, making me think it wouldn’t be a bad idea to do some research of my own. Maybe the threat is gone, and I can finally go back to living a normal life.
I push my way inside, using my hip to close the door, then engage the lock and forgo kicking off my shoes even though I spent hours cleaning the apartment. I’m on a mission, so I head directly to the kitchen, where I place the bags on the counter and pull the food out, setting the refrigerator stuff to one side and the pantry items to the other. This way, I’m not going back and forth like a turkey with its head cut off. I glance at the clock, realizing five minutes have passed, which means I’ve got the rest of the time to head to my bedroom and grab the money.
As I’m moving that way, my phone buzzes in the purse I have draped across my body. I pull out the device, looking down at the screen as I’m walking, and see that it’s my roommates responding to my earlier text.
Mischa: So sorry, just saw your text. Is everything okay?
Me: No need to apologize. Unexpected car issues, but I have it figured out, and it’s at the shop now.
Liv: Shit, that’s the worst. I’m sorry, too. Is there anything I can do to help?
Me: All good here. Thank you, though! Enjoy the rest of your weekend <3
I back out of the app, hit the lock button on the side, and put it back in the pocket inside my purse where it belongs. I’m going to need both hands in order to get on the ground, slither beneath my bed, and detach what I need. And with that, I get down to business once again.
“Did you get everything done?” Matthew asks as I slide into the passenger seat.
“Yep.” I grab the side of my purse, lift it off, and set it down on the floorboard.
“Alright. Colt called me. He said it’s going to take a couple more hours until the tires are delivered to the shop. I figure we can go back to my place and order food until he’s finished.” His hand returns to my thigh once we’re heading out of my apartment parking lot.
“Umm, why would you order when you have a fridge and freezer full of food?” I’m also of the notion of telling him to turn back around. There’s plenty of food I just bought. Then again, I have no idea what time my roommates will be home, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t think a meal consists of yogurt, lunch meat, cheese, and some fruit in his eyes.
“Kitten, there are a lot of things I can do in life. Cooking isn’t one of them. You’re the only one who uses the kitchen.” A good type of feeling settles in my stomach.
“Then what do you do on the days I’m not there to make you dinner?” I place my hand on top of his.
“Pick something up, eat at one of the guys' houses, and mooch off my parents. My mom is still sorely disappointed I can’t cook. She tried her hardest to teach me, but nothing helped. A lot of it probably has to do with my attention span. A phone call or email has me thinking about other shit. Then there’s the fact that it’s only me, hard to justify getting the kitchen dirty and making too much for it to go to waste. At least when you cook, there’s enough for yourself, too.”
“Oh, well, I guess that makes sense.” I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering if what I’m going to suggest next would be a good idea or teetering on the edge of overstepping. I’m going for it. Spending an exuberant amount of money on groceries only to eat out is frivolous in my eyes. “I could always make dinner?”
Matthew’s eyes are on the road, allowing me to study his profile and see the upturn of his lips. Today, he’s in a relaxed style, a black polo, dark wash denims that fit him to utter perfection, loose but cupping him in all the right ways, and a pair of sneakers. This is my first time seeing him in such a relaxed state, and I find that I really enjoy it. Don’t get me wrong. The three-piece suits are hotter than hell, match his personality completely in what I can only imagine is a dominating personality in and out of the courtroom, and I’m sure he turns heads anytime he enters a room.