Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 52975 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52975 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
There’s no reason to be jealous—Harry’s gay and has recently been on a couple of dates with a landscape architect who apparently has delicious biceps. I’m just so sex-starved that I’m low-key jealous of anything Lainey strokes. She wrapped her hand around the neck of a bottle of wine earlier, and yeah...I started to get hard.
“Tomorrow’s gonna hurt,” Carter says to me.
I tear my gaze away from Lainey. “Huh?”
He smirks. “The workout tomorrow. After all that food.”
“Oh. Yeah, probably.”
No one’s mentioned Shane all night. Could it really be this easy? Is Lainey already over him?
I don’t want to be the guy she falls into bed with right after a breakup and regrets. But I don’t know how long I can keep pretending I just want to be a friend to her.
How long is long enough to wait? A month? It hasn’t even been a week. And hell, she might not even want me back.
Wouldn’t that be ironic if, now that I’ve come around to finally see the incredible woman she is, she’s over me?
I can’t even think about that.
Chapter Fourteen
Lainey
* * *
A few hours later, I’m still smiling as I close the dishwasher door and push the button to start it.
“I really enjoyed today,” I say, hanging the dish towel in my hand over the bar on the stove.
“So did I.”
That deep, husky voice gets me every time. Bash would sound sexy saying literally anything. And now, I don’t have to feel guilty for thinking so because I’m single.
I’m still not fully used to it. I never thought I’d be single again. It doesn’t feel bad; it just feels different.
Bash is wiping down the counters and Bruce is curled up on the rug in front of the sink. It’s the first time I’ve been at his house on the weekend. I explored Cleveland to avoid him the first weekend and I was at Mara’s last weekend.
“Your range was everything I hoped it would be.” I smooth a hand over the front of his sleek, high-end kitchen appliance. “I can’t wait to make more sourdough in it.”
He finishes wiping the counters and washes his hands, then takes off his backward baseball cap and runs a hand through his hair. “I’m glad you like it.”
Awareness dances down my spine as he looks at me, his arms folded. I must be imagining there’s an intensity in his gaze. Or maybe I’m mistaking the look of a concerned friend for something else.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“A little tired.” I laugh lightly. “Believe it or not, making sourdough can be stressful.”
He scoffs. “Fuck yeah, I believe it.”
“I’m not usually that bad. But knowing Harry was going to eat it, I wanted it to be my best.”
He comes closer to me until I’m standing with my back against the island counter and he’s right across from me, his back to the kitchen counter.
“Has Shane contacted you?”
I shake my head. “I think he knows that door is closed.”
“And how are you feeling about that?”
I consider. “Pretty good, actually. I’ve been thinking about what this means for me. I was planning to stay in Ohio, but now...” I smile. “Stanford has an incredible program for me to get my doctorate. There’s also a place in Cambridge and one in Israel that are dream research jobs. I can go anywhere.”
Bash’s expression is serious. “Yeah, but...that’s really far away.”
“It doesn’t matter, though. I’m spending this entire year on research, even though I don’t know where I’ll be next semester. I’m seriously considering applying to the Cambridge and Israel places. Why not?”
He takes a step forward, now standing so close I have to crane my neck to keep our eyes locked.
“Don’t run away,” he says gruffly. “I know you’re hurt, but you won’t be proving anything to anyone by running to the other side of the world.”
I laugh lightly. “That’s not it at all, though. I didn’t think I could even consider those places and now I’m not tied down.”
He puts a palm on the island right beside me and then does the same with his other hand, so close now that I can feel the heat of his body. My heart races with anticipation.
“Maybe you need to consider other options.”
My breathing turns shallow. What’s happening here? I’m an empirical person—I like facts and verifiable data more than vibes. But everything in me is telling me that Bash is talking about him.
Facts: he’s so close I can feel him and smell his addictive cologne; he’s giving me sex eyes; he’s looking dead serious as he tells me to consider things that don’t involve me leaving the country.
“Wha...” I clear my throat. “What do you mean?”
His lips quirk slightly. He eases closer to me, sliding a foot between mine. I lean back, gasping as his chest meets mine.
“I know you’re newly single, but I’m saying maybe you’ll consider a real man who knows he’s damn lucky to even have a chance with you.”