Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
CHAPTER NINE – SYLVIE
Did he just offer to buy me a waffle?
Crikey, that sounded like quite the euphemism when I put it like that.
“Offering up a pregnant lady’s food? That’s rude. Or bold. Or maybe both, although stupid is the one I’d go for,” I said, sidestepping to let a woman with a pram past me. She gave me a grateful smile, and I returned it before I started walking in the direction of the waffle stand.
I was on the other side of the square and could see the sizable line. It was only ten minutes until the lights were due to be switched on, and I wasn’t too fussed about watching a pig hit a big red button to switch on some glorified fairy lights.
All right. I wanted to see the lights, but the pig? After it pooped in my bed? No, thank you.
There was a good chance that I was very much in the minority, though. I could see the novelty in the pig turning on the lights. It was a little strange, kind of cute if you were into that, and something to make a cute video of for TikTok or something like that if you liked that sort of thing.
I, however, was merely hoping those things would entice some of the people out of the waffle line so I could get to the front a little quicker.
Thomas stepped up beside me in the line. “I wasn’t so much offering up her food as I was offering to buy you a waffle.”
“First, it’s cute that you think I only want one.” I glanced at him. “Second, what for? Some kind of peace offering?”
“Not some kind of peace offering. A peace offering.”
I pointed a gloved fingertip at the scar above my eyebrow. “Will it make up for twenty years of a scar?”
His eyes glanced there. “I’ll buy you three waffles.”
“Then you’d still owe me seventeen.”
“What is it? One per year?”
“You’re lucky I’m not bartering with one a month.”
“If you ate that many, I doubt you’d fit into your dress for the wedding.”
I pressed my lips into a grimace. “That’s a good point. I’ve already been stabbed by a needle far too many times this week. I don’t want to have to go through that again.”
Thomas raised his eyebrows. “Sounds traumatic.”
“Have you ever been stabbed in the same spot six times by a razor-sharp pin?”
“I can’t say I recall such a time, no.”
“I would be more than happy to help you with that.” I eyed the line in front of me. “You can’t possibly understand my reluctance,” I replied, leaning over towards him a little. “What are the chances this line will disappear when your mum grabs the mic to do the countdown?”
He craned his neck to peer over the top of my head. “Based on the ratio of families to adults and teenagers… A good chance it’ll cut down as people panic and leave. Probably not disappear, as there are several bored-looking dads who look like they couldn’t give a toss about a pig turning on lights—”
“Relatable,” I agreed solemnly.
“—And some young lads who might be whipped enough to stay in line for their teen girlfriends with the promise of a sloppy blowjob in a secluded corner of a carpark.”
“Are you projecting your own teenage years there?”
“I can categorically say I never once received a sloppy blowjob in a secluded corner of a carpark.”
“You were awfully specific for me to believe that. Did you have a non-sloppy one?”
“Why do you care?”
I shrugged. “Just making conversation.”
“About who may or may not have put my penis in their mouth?”
I wrinkled my nose. “I bet it was Amanda Ackerman.”
Thomas side-eyed me. “What makes you think that?”
“Teenage girls are bitchy. You hear things.” I paused. “Some things stay with you.”
“Well, she never gave me a sloppy blowjob in a carpark. Or any kind of blowjob anywhere at all.” He frowned. “I can’t believe I’m discussing this in a waffle line, with you of all people.”
I couldn’t help but smile, although it did feel like more of a wry smirk than anything else. “Good, because I am extremely amused by the fact a member of the aristocracy is discussing blowjobs he may or may not have had in a car park more than a decade ago.”
“I walked right into that, didn’t I?”
“Yep. Your desire to make amends with me makes you weak and open to my manipulation.” I shuffled forwards in the line. “How long until the countdown?”
He sighed and checked his watch. “Anytime… now.”
The music quietened, and we both turned in the direction of the centre of the square where the unlit tree and stage were. Slowly, people filtered in that direction, leaving the orderly queues they were in to try and get as close to the switch-on stage as they could.
It was largely futile. People had been waiting there for ages already, and I would be impressed if anyone could get any closer than they already were.