Page 72 of Overdue I Love You's
“Rhys?”
“There’s no wrong answer.” She sets her mug down.
“Well then, Rhys and Dean.” I’m sitting where I sat last time. Except this time, because the sun isn’t fully out, lamps are on and warming the place with its orange presence. An LED strip lights up from beneath the couch, turning the area into an illusion of a home with a professional atmosphere.
“How do the messages make you feel?”
“Good,” how else would you feel? “Excited too. Rhys has a comforting, charismatic vibe to him that I enjoy. And Dean is…”Sexy, smoldering, mysterious with jaw-dropping attractiveness and panty-melting attentiveness.
“Doesn’t that excite you?”
Tucking a strand behind my ear, “It makes me nervous.”
“But you picked him for your date today, didn’t you?”
Not that it’s any of her business but, “I want to get to know him.”More like force him to answer all of my questions.
Irene picks a clump of mascara off her eyelashes. “Do you think he feels the same?”
Well, he did tell me to pick him. “I do.”
She jots down on her iPad. A couple of words. Maybe a scribble. Then turns it off. “And if he didn’t pick you?”
After that night? There’s no way he didn’t. “I doubt it.”
“I admire your confidence, Nova.” Irene hops off the high chair. “I’m hoping it stays.”
That doesn’t sound like a compliment.
When the camera’s turn off, Irene scrolls through her phone and two staff members walk up to unplug the interview mics.
I bite my lip. “Irene.”
She looks up.
“There’s no filming at night, right?”
She turns to staff members with a questioning look. “Not that I know of,” she looks back at me. “The cameras automatically turn off. Everyone here but Austin and I go home.”
My skin itches.
“Right,” my smile feels dry. “Just wondering.”
You have to walk on the cobblestone pathway through the forest to get back to the house.
I feel him before I see him.
He sits on the ledge of the small deck in front of the sliding door.
Dean’s hair sweeps over his forehead. Not soaking wet, but wet enough to not be fully dry. He holds a large glass full of green liquid that looks awfully like a smoothie.
His lips move quietly, tracing words I can’t pinpoint.
“Hi, Ogre.”
Dean stands abruptly, hiding the glass behind himself. “Hi, Lovebird.”
Tilting my head, “Why does it feel like you’re doing something suspicious?”
