Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“Somebody from class,” I prevaricate. It’s mostly true. With a small omission.
The team is still in the locker room. Which is probably why Dallas is texting. Even though his playing days are over, he travels with them. He’s still part of the team. They wouldn’t be in the position to play in the championship if it hadn’t been for him.
“Is he cute?”
Blake looks hopeful for me and I can’t even explain to her why all hope is lost. Nothing like a crush making an utter fool of you to kill said crush.
“I t-thought he was, b-but he turned out to be a major disappointment.”
If Zoe gets wind that I’ve been helping him out in class I will never hear the end of it. I haven’t told anyone, primarily Zoe, about the phone scam because I don’t want to be an accessory to murder.
“Cute enough to fuck?” Zoe chimes in––loudly. She’s sitting at the other end of the bleacher, Blake and Alice between us, but the volume of her voice is really unnecessary.
The middle-aged lady seated on the bench behind us glares. Probably somebody’s mother. I smile tightly and turn my displeasure onto the loud one. “Can you please k-keep your voice down?” I hiss.
Zoe makes a face, and my phone––my completely damaged phone––pings with an incoming text.
It’s a meme of a kitten. The most adorable rust-colored kitten.
I want to stay mad. I really do. But the kitten is so cute that I just can’t. Behold the new and improved me, smiling at a kitten meme.
“Somebody’s crushing on somebody,” Alice sing-songs. I give her my best don’t go there look, and she frowns in confusion. Searching Google, I find the ugliest picture of an old guy in a diaper. The caption reads: Big Crybaby. It took me weeks to figure out what his ridiculous Halloween costume was. Attaching the butt-ugly picture, I press send and smile.
Chapter Ten
Dora
What the actual eff?
I spot him through the glass door and freeze. Seriously, I don’t know what game he’s playing, but I refuse to play along. I glance around to ascertain whether I’m in the right place, and yep, I am. It’s Paw Nation, the no-kill shelter in Venice where I volunteer.
So what is Dallas doing here? And why are Vi and Mika, the two women that own it, talking to him? New semester plus new classes was supposed to equal no more Dallas. And yet, here he is.
I left for Del Mar shortly after finals and haven’t seen him since. His injuries have healed nicely. In fact, he’s never looked better I’m sorry to report. The blond streaks in the disorderly perfection that is his hair are more pronounced, his cheekbones freshly tan. And despite that he’s wearing a black t-shirt that has seen better days, the ubiquitous silver basketball shorts, and flip-flops, he looks freaking gorgeous. His lips lift in a faint smile and I blush. Darn it. I thought I was getting better at this, that I was growing immune.
I enter and the bells hanging on the door jangle. Mika and Vi turn to look at me, but my attention stays on Dallas. Standing on his right is Vi, my favorite walking contradiction. She looks like a fairy princess, small and delicate, and yet she speaks in language that would make both my dads blush. Then there are the piercing and tattoos, and the fact that she’s a proud gun enthusiast.
Vi’s girlfriend, Mika, stands on the other side of him. She’s a professional trainer to the stars and only works at the shelter part-time. Mika’s your quintessential California beach girl with her fresh-faced look, long black hair, and thousand-watt smile.
“Dor! Great, you’re here,” Vi says. Her usually spiky platinum hair is dyed lavender today. “I was just telling Dallas that we have a volunteer that goes to Malibu U as well.”
Vi examines my face, and when she finds the absence of all joy, a frown appears on hers. “Do you two know each other?” Her head bobs back and forth between us.
“Yeah, we do. Hi, Dora.” He smiles. I do not smile back.
“W-What are you doing here?” I inquire, addressing the person in question.
“Community service. Vi and Mika were kind enough to agree to let me work my hours off here.” He turns his lethal charm on them, unleashing his signature brain-bludgeoning smile. “I really appreciate it, ladies.”
He’s gonna try to butter-up these two? Really? I find comfort in knowing that Vi and Mika are the last people on the planet that would fall for his dirty-flirty tricks.
“Our pleasure,” one intones, batting her lashes.
“Nonsense. We’re happy to have you,” the other adds.
When both of them smile up at him, I’m on the verge of throwing up. I cannot believe what I am witnessing with my own eyes.
“Is this going to be a problem?” Vi asks, suddenly concerned.