Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
I took a deep breath. “I think I met someone. She’s got a stranglehold on my interest. I can’t fucking think of much else these days.”
Andrew’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “Never thought I’d see the day. What’s her name?”
“Sloane.”
“What’s she like?”
“She’s smart. Beautiful, with auburn hair and a great figure. And she calls me out on my crap.”
He grinned. “I like her already.”
“We have great chemistry, and not just the sexual kind. There’s an emotional and intellectual chemistry, too. Like, I want to listen to her talk, and when she tells me shit, I feel it in my gut. I don’t even really understand it.”
“That all sounds great. But why do I feel like there’s more coming, like I’m waiting for the big red flags to start waving around in the wind?”
“Oh, there are definitely red flags.”
“She married?”
I shook my head. “Of course not. But she was recently engaged. The dickhead left her at the altar. She’s like you, has only ever had serious relationships. And she works for one of my dad’s holdings—a bridal magazine—and she’s got an obsession with weddings. Her family is fourth-generation NYPD, and they also own a cop bar that has so many people carrying they could fight a small war.”
“Jesus Christ, Wilder. Why is everything with you go big or go home? You’re gonna get your ass shot if you fuck with this woman.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Does she know who you are? That you don’t have the most stable track record when it comes to dating?”
“I haven’t hidden anything from her.”
“And she wants to give it a shot anyway?”
“Well, I guess that’s also a problem.”
Andrew’s brows pulled tight. “What do you mean?”
“She hasn’t agreed to give anything a shot with me. She’s on what she calls a ‘man moratorium.’ Decided not to date anyone for a year after her engagement ended.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Six months.”
“So you’re going to do what for the next six months?”
I frowned. “I sort of told her I’d wait for her.”
“Wait for her where? You can’t mean you told her you’d be celibate for that long.”
My shoulders slumped. “I did, yeah.”
Andrew’s head fell back in a fit of laughter. He cracked himself up so hard, the jerk snorted a few times.
“Alright, alright. It’s not that funny, jackass.”
He wiped tears from his eyes. “What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sex?”
I shrugged. “Maybe a few weeks.”
As if on cue, Mia approached a passenger in the row in front of us, seated across the aisle. She bent, practically shoving her heart-shaped ass in our faces. We both took a long look before Andrew’s eyes slanted to meet mine again.
“Gonna be a long six months. Good luck, buddy.”
* * *
The following morning, I pulled up outside the brownstone a half hour early. When I’d invited Harry to come to the Rutgers game on our drive home last week, I hadn’t thought to get his number, and now I needed to be at the arena a half hour early. I could’ve gotten Sloane’s number from my dad’s office and called her to get it, but I’d only gotten the message about the change in meeting time an hour ago, at 6 a.m. Rather than waking Sloane to reach her dad, I figured I’d take my chances and just show up early. Harry seemed like the kind of guy who would be ready to go.
At the top of the brownstone steps, there were four bell choices. The bottom one read H. CARRICK. I went to press it, but the names above it caught my attention. Three of the four had the last name Carrick, including the top one, which read S. CARRICK. Did Sloane live here, too? Her whole family, maybe?
As cheesy as it sounded, I felt my pulse pick up. I grumbled to myself, trying to shake off feeling like I was in some sort of lovesick teen movie. When it didn’t work, I said fuck it and pressed the button for S. CARRICK. Like my buddy Andrew said, go big or go home.
But after two minutes, there still was no answer. That turned the excitement I’d felt into something different—jealousy. Did she sleep somewhere else last night? When I didn’t answer the door in the morning, it was usually because I’d been busy the night before and hadn’t made it home. But—I talked myself down—that was me, not Sloane. She was probably out for a damn run, or the bell was broken. Or maybe she didn’t even live here. Yeah, that’s it.
I needed to get a move on, so I sucked it up and pressed H. CARRICK. A loud buzzer sounded back, unlocking the outer door. I opened it and walked in through a double set of doors. Harry stepped into the hallway … in his bathrobe. Shit.
“Hey,” I said. “Sorry I’m so early. I didn’t have your number. I was supposed to meet someone at the arena during the game to talk about a player, but he texted this morning and pushed the time up.”