Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 27906 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27906 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Victoriously grinning can’t be stopped.
“And you are?” Bryn salaciously investigates, eyes eagerly doing their best to drink him in from top to bottom.
“Jericho,” he retorts in a similar tone prior to extending his open palm for shaking “Jericho Boucher.”
“My twin,” I casually interject.
“You’re a twin?!” croaks the man beside me.
“Fraternal,” Jer offhandedly replies while keeping his gaze locked on hers. “And who are you, beautiful?”
“Bryn,” barely manages to leave her lips courtesy of her vacation partner.
“She’s married,” unhappily grumps my fake BAE. “To my best friend.”
“Weird flex, but okay,” laughs off the other female in the space.
“Chill, pretty boy,” my twin lightly chortles. “I’m not into married women.” He folds his arms across his tank top covered chest. “That was Pop’s shit. Won’t ever be mine.”
“And just for the research log,” Bryn sassily snips, pointed finger waving dramatically through the air, “I’m married, not dead. Beautiful specimen like Jericho,” she flicks the digit in his direction, “are basically like sharks of the human world. Something wonderful to look at but not touch.”
J.T. quirks an eyebrow at her without hesitation. “Except you do touch sharks.”
Her nose threatens to scrunch.
“For a living.”
“Fuckfine!” She surrenders with both hands. “I won’t touch this one!”
Curiosity gets the better of my brain pushing me to ask, “Do you touch real sharks? Like Jaws shit?”
“Dontgetherstartedonthatmovie,” mutters J.T. during his return to texting.
“Fuck that movie. Sharks are friends not foes!”
“Pretty sure that’s a different movie entirely,” chuckles my twin.
“And second, yes. I work in the field of marine biology, which we can talk about more elsewhere. Maybe over misposas?
“Man, I love how everything is renamed for the convention,” Jericho muses.
“Metoooo,” Bryn enthusiastically sings.
“We actually have a tee-time up next,” I inform the group, “which you can join us for if you like. They allow up to four.”
“I would love that!” she exclaims, excitement short-lived. “Just like I bet you would love for Puppet Boy-”
“That’s a rough nickname,” quietly cackles the only best friend I’ve ever had.
“-to stop working,” Bryn emphasizes closer to his clean-shaven face.
He shoots her a displeased glare. “You know this shit is important.”
“I know that the hot girl next to you deserves more attention than she’s getting.”
Seeing a perfect chance to step into the back and forth, I cleverly add, “I’ve never had a guy I’m dating put our relationship first.”
“Wait,” Jericho grunts in confusion. “You’re dating?”
“Fake dating,” the other woman fills in at the same time J.T. shifts his attention to me.
“I didn’t know that.”
“I just found out this morning.”
“I’ve never had a woman I’m dating want me to put our relationship first,” confesses my hazel eyed dreamboat.
“I would like it if you did.”
Reluctance to offer his phone to Bryn is non-existent. “Done.”
“Excuse you,” she immediately scoffs. “Do I look like your fucking secretary?”
He tosses her a crooked grin. “No, you look like the Uhura to my Kirk.”
An amused groan is attached to her snatching the device from him.
“Don’t text anyone.”
“Fine.”
“Or change my settings.”
“Less fine,” she playfully sneers.
“Or leave it somewhere weird like inside a snow cone machine.”
“One time!” Huffs his best friend. “I did that shit one time!”
“Let’s not make it two?” He cheekily chuckles. “How about we let Singh hold it?”
“And how about we get to the ‘holodeck’ before we miss our slot?” I happily suggest.
J.T. links fingers with me, kisses my knuckles, and kindly insists, “Lead the way, beloved.”
Chapter 3
Janae
Regular put-put is definitely an easy pass.
However, glow-in-the-dark with Star Trek: Voyager themed décor is an easy yes.
Despite being in second place to my twin.
I swear there’s not a single fucking sport the dude sucks at.
“Fuckme,” grumbles Bryn from where she’s setting up for what will be her third shot at the Kazon hole. “I hate this show. And this shit?!” She stabs her putter in the direction of the giant face cut out. “This bumpity ass nose bullshit only makes me hate it more.”
“Which I didn’t think was possible,” J.T. quietly informs over my shoulder, successfully getting me to snigger.
Rather than interact with her, I angle myself to completely face him. “And which is your least favorite from the franchise?”
“Voyager,” he answers on a warm chuckle yet quickly adds, “but I can tolerate it way better than she can.” Post exchanging snickers, he kicks his chin towards me. “What about you?”
“Probably Enterprise.”
J.T. overdramatically clutches his chest in shock. “I’ve never heard anyone say that.”
More light laughs freely float through the air, mildly being drowned out by his best friend’s constant swearing.
“I’ve also never,” the poke back to our version of getting to know you keeps me beaming, “dated a twin.”
“What about fake dated?”
His grin grows the slightest. “That either.”
It’s impossible not to continue smirking.
OhmyGarak, what is wrong with me?!
Why is my face stuck like this?
I can’t remember the last time I did this much smiling without being paid for it.
Leaning my frame against the nearby wall precedes me asking, “You have any siblings?”