Something To Dream On by Diane Rinella Read Free Book Online Page A

guy?”
    “Majorly!”
    His words whip out like he wants to slap me with them. “Really? Then why did you blow him off when he was asking you to join them for that walk?”
    “Yeah, right! Why would he ask me?”
    Lord, I must be in trouble something fierce because his hands just flew around and smacked on his hips. “Please, girl! Why wouldn't he like you?” Griffin points a finger at me and continues to shoot out finger after finger to add a dose of sass to each point. “You're fun to be around. You hooked him up with a friend he obviously loves. And you are totally beautiful, which he was subtly trying to point out.”
    “He was?”
    “Yes! He mentioned how beautiful your smile would be while you were walking together. Think about it. ”
    My face warms in hope, but Griffin is like a girlfriend, and girlfriends are supposed to tell you you're beautiful and be encouraging. It’s what we do.
    “I dare you to go get that man. This pretending you are not interested is going to bite you in your pasty ass. Go for the kill!” Griffin flicks his hand at me as he heads off to tend to a patient. I don’t know what in the Sam Hill just happened, but I may need to rethink my strategy.
    I spend the afternoon pondering my choices; show up on Jensen’s doorstep like an obvious stalker, hide in the neighbor’s bushes and then pretend to just happen to be in the area like a crazed stalker, or look up his number and call like a sane person.
    On the sixth digit, I stop. He didn't actually get around to inviting me, so am I crashing his walk? This is weird.
    No wussing out! Just go the half-chicken route and send a text.
    “Hi. It's Lizetta. I can't stop smiling over the thought of Etta in that wagon. Mind if I join you on that walk tonight?”
    How long is considered non-obsessive to wait for a reply? A minute? Ten minutes? Three days? My stupid lack of self-esteem tells me to pack it up and go home. My shoulder dips at the weight of my purse just as my phone buzzes. “Sure! Head on over.”
    Seriously? Not only was the response positive, it was fast—and he did it with an exclamation mark! Maybe Griffin was right.
    Hold up there, Lizetta. You're about to walk a dog, not get wined and dined. Keep those expectations realistic.
    Oh, screw you, brain! Is it so wrong to allow a little hope for once? I swear, once one person damages your self-esteem, it’s a slippery slope to Stupidville.
    Without giving it another thought, I head out.
    Although the distance between work and Jensen’s apartment isn’t great, the difference in the environment is vast. It doesn’t take long to go from modern shopping centers and tall office buildings to dry hills and outdated strip malls. A quick trek up a hill later, and I’m on a long stretch of road that may not have been paved since the automobile was created. This town is strange. On this end it is practically desert, then you shoot through a mini-Metropolis and land in the lush canyon where I live. Though it is not far from San Francisco, Fremont is like a mirage in the middle of nowhere.

    This … This is … Okay, this is just weird.
    I’m in a lawn chair, staring at Etta in a little red wagon that barely fits her, and waiting for a girl that makes feedback run through my nerves. “Seriously, Etta, what is it about her? You know she’s not my type, right?”
    I swear Etta is cocking an eyebrow and asking me to elaborate.
    “Well, she’s pretty and all, and her eyes dance with life, and wow, that hair. And that giggle! But … Okay, I don’t want to sound like an ass, but every other girl that has caught my eye has been, well … has been a little more on the athletic side.”
    That’s a flat out lie. They have been skinny, regardless of how they got that way. Honestly, I don’t know how I would feel about those few extra pounds if I were handling them, but Lizetta is a gorgeous girl who makes my heart flap like a dying fish.
    Etta shrugs. Like I swear she freakin’ shrugs as