Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Pandora noticed that her best friend’s werewolf tendencies got stronger as the moon cycled toward full. From her estimation, they were two days away from the hunter’s moon. Which meant that, for three nights in a row, she wouldn’t see Lucy as she went and wolfed out with her pack.
“And a pint or so of some vein-vino for you,” Lucy said, leaving her clipboard on the counter and going to grab her handbag. “Hold down the fort. And start to think about features. Do you want a brunette? A blond? Maybe even a redhead?” She made her way toward the front door, pulling it open and allowing the wind to send a small flurry of dried leaves into the shop, then disappeared out into the night.
Pandora was truly thankful for Lucy in times like these. She would normally be in an anxiety spiral, if not for Lucy’s upbeat enthusiasm. But thanks to her encouragement, Pandora was almost starting to believe she could pull this off.
Her best friend had spent the better part of an hour discussing all of the plots of the arranged-marriage books they’d read, and the mistakes that had made the situationships fall apart, so that Pandora would be smart enough to avoid them.
Even just ten minutes after Lucy had left, her uncertainty started to creep back in, making her set her mind to deep-cleaning to avoid overthinking things.
That was why she missed it when someone walked in.
“What is this?” a familiar voice called. She popped up so fast she whacked her head on the underside of the countertop, making pain ricochet across her scalp.
“Ow.” She rubbed her head as she stood and turned to find Caramel Macchiato Cutie standing there.
With the clipboard in his hand.
Pandora squeaked. “Oh, um, notes.”
He started to read out loud. “Good at waltzing. Smoldering … delivering romantic lines …”
“It’s for a … er … play!” she said.
“You’re putting on a play?” he asked, brows pinched.
“We’re considering it.” She took the clipboard out of his hands and stuffed it under the counter, hoping her embarrassment wasn’t written all over her face. “The usual?” she asked, forcing her gaze to stay on his pretty eyes and not, under any circumstances, slip to those generous, frowning lips of his.
And she certainly couldn’t let herself imagine reaching across the counter, grabbing him by the front of his shirt, dragging him halfway across the counter, and sealing her lips to his.
Or, at least, she couldn’t let herself imagine that for long.
“Ah, yeah,” he said, making her gaze flick up, realizing with no small amount of humiliation that she had, in fact, been watching his lips.
“Coming right up.” Pandora slipped some extra cheerfulness in her voice, hoping it might distract him from the aforementioned ogling. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming in tonight,” she said as she pumped caramel syrup into his cup.
“Actually, this is going to be my last time,” he said, making her head whip up.
“What?” she gasped out.
“Yeah, I, ah, it looks like I am going to need to drop out of UCL,” he said.
“But why?”
“Out of money,” he said, clearly trying to shrug it off, but Pandora could see how gutted he was.
Clearly, the guy was dedicated to his studies, whatever they were. He was there every single night, poring over his texts, writing endless notes, working hard toward whatever his goal was.
“I had held out hope for some grants to finish my PhD,” he went on. “Just heard that the last one fell through. I’m already in debilitating debt. I can’t take on any more loans. Gotta pack it up and head back home to live with my parents until I figure things out.”
“I’m so sorry …” Pandora trailed off, hating that when he was admitting something so personal, she didn’t even have his real name to try to comfort him with.
“Victor,” he said. “What can you do? That’s life, I guess.” He tapped his card, then made his way over to his table.
Victor. Pandora had mused over what his name might be more times than she cared to admit. “Victor” had never made the list. Somehow, though, it was better than anything she’d dreamed up. But now she wouldn’t get a chance to use it.
Pandora kept sneaking glances over at him as she went through the motions of making his macchiato for the last time.
Her heart twinged at that thought.
At the idea that this would be the last time she would ever see his face.
Unless …
No.
No, absolutely not.
Victor didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would be willing to even entertain the thought of such an absurd plan, let alone actually go through with it.
But it would solve both of their problems, wouldn’t it?
Pandora thought of Lucy’s list, thinking that Victor certainly had the brooding thing down. And if his face in her fantasies was anything to go by, he could absolutely pull off a convincing smolder.