Bonham (Pushing Daisies Book 3) by Heather Young-Nichols (the little red hen read aloud txt) 📗

our food. I’d noticed restaurants, even the ones that weren’t fast food, tended to move quicker the closer to campus you got. It was like they knew we students didn’t have a lot of time.

The first bite melted in my mouth. We’d decided to share a basket of fries and I needed the caffeine in my diet pop.

“How’s the project going?” he asked.

“Fine, but we were dumb to think we could do it all in one day.” I took another bite and didn’t speak again until I swallowed. “We’ll get it done because we have to. It’s so damn boring, though. I’m beginning to hate accounting.”

“What would you do if you changed majors?”

“I’m not sure. I love it when the guys bring me in on the radio, but I don’t know if that’s, like, a good career choice.”

“If you love it, it’s a good career choice.”

“You can say that because of what you do. I have to make sure I earn enough money to get out from under my parents’ thumb.”

His jaw tightened. I’d told him enough about them that I think he didn’t like them. Which made me feel bad, actually. They weren’t bad people; they just had a different idea of how to keep their daughters safe.

We finished and he drove me back to school. Since we had a few minutes before I had to get back, I didn’t hop right out.

“You know your Snaps aren’t that telling,” I said. “You send these pictures with no commentary. It really leaves things open to interpretation.”

“Maybe that’s what I wanted.”

“It’s frustrating, though. I’m always wondering what you’re thinking.”

“OK.” He adjusted in his seat. “The first one I sent with my face covered was because you called yourself ‘Church Girl.’ There are… stereotypes about the pastor’s daughter. You had to have heard them.”

I was already nodding. Even in parochial school, they’d been there. “Every last one of them.”

“The second one was because you told me you thought about last night the entire time.”

“Right.”

“Jurnie, that is so dirty in the best way.” He slid his hand into my hair, which made my chest melt. I loved it when he did that. “You’re so innocent sometimes and so unexpectedly dirty other times. It kills me.”

“I just feel like I can be myself with you.”

“You abso-fucking-lutely can. I want you to be. But that’s what those meant.”

“Got it.” I swallowed. If I was going to be myself with him, I was going to really be myself. “I can’t promise when the time comes that I’ll be any of those stereotypes that you were talking about. I also can’t promise I’ll be dirty in the best ways. But I’ll for sure be me. I just don’t know what I’m doing. I trust you completely.”

He groaned and leaned his head against the headrest. “I really wish you didn’t have to go back into that fucking library right now.”

“Me too.” But I did have to. I pushed up so I could lean over the center console and kissed him for as long as I dared. It was soft. It was sincere and it did nothing to help me want to get out of that Jeep. But to me… it felt like a promise.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said when I pulled back.

“Dinner time, right?” He’d said the group had something to do. Or rather Mack had something for him and Daltrey to do since Van and Daisy were gone to Chicago.

“Yes. I’ll pick you up.”

One more quick kiss and I was unfortunately on my way back to put together more boring spreadsheets. Everything was a damn spreadsheet or pie chart or bar graph with this major.

Used to think I wanted that boring predictable life but a few days with Bonham has me realizing just how exciting life could be.

14

Jurnie

I’d barely had time to message Bonham last night when I’d gotten home. We’d worked until eleven on the dot and we shouldn’t have needed to. I guessed that was just how presentations sometimes worked.

When I’d gotten home, I’d sent him a message, hopped quickly into the shower so I wouldn’t have to do it in the morning, then crashed. It had been like a literal plane crash. I hadn’t even climbed under my covers. Instead, I’d dived nose-first into my bed and stayed there until my alarm had gone off this morning.

At least I had enough time to grab a Starbucks on my way in. I was going to need the caffeine for the day.

The office was all atwitter when I arrived. There were excited whispers and a palpable nervous energy and I had no idea where it was coming from. Except the accounting department, of course. I wasn’t sure if anything could excite these people. They were all very nice to me and seemed like good people. They were just conservative in their reactions to things.

This was my first time actually working in accounting. Before this, it had all been theoretical. I found that numbers were my jam, but being in this setting, I began to realize that while numbers might click in my brain, this wasn’t what I wanted to do day in and day out for the rest of my life.

Now it might’ve been too late to change my mind.

Still, I’d do a good job because this is what I’d agreed to and I wouldn’t let them down. But while I worked, I made a mental note to talk to my advisor about my predicament. If anyone knew my options, it’d be him.

It was an hour later that I heard Graham call my name again.

This flutter of excitement swirled in my stomach. He’d only called me like that the times I’d been wanted in the studio. I’d been hoping they’d call me in today. Though this time I apparently got a heads up. He said to give them ten minutes to get set up.

The idea that they needed to get set up for anything was both intriguing and scary.

Ned and Brian were known