Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97418 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97418 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“Wait.” My eyes narrow on his. “You said Dolly had moved on and found someone else… basically you both said she fucked him.”
Chuckling, he shakes his head. “Look, we had to. You’re a shell of your former self. And since Dolly didn’t go through with it, maybe you should consider having dinner with him.”
I freeze. “Are you for real? You can’t be serious?”
He keeps shoveling chips into his mouth, spilling crumbs all over his black T-shirt.
“Absolutely. This might be a blessing in disguise. You need to get laid. This guy is straight.” He points a chip at me as he raises an eyebrow. “A noncriminal who more than likely won’t fuck you in the ass and leave you.” He winks.
“I never should have told you that.”
“You absolutely had to.”
“Whatever.” I play with a chip on the table. “David ruined me. I’ll never be the same.” Those fucking tears I hate so much start to form, and I grab a margarita and slam the whole thing.
Doug shakes his head. “Yeah, the damaged, tortured ones always fuck so good. You might be ruined for others.” He adjusts himself as I frown at him. “What? My dick is hard just imagining him and you—”
“Stop.” I slap him in the chest. “Just stop while you’re ahead. Let’s get drunk and you can sleep at my place.”
“Ohhh, yes please. You know I love our sleepovers.” He looks over at the bartender. “Two shots of Patron and the check, please.”
DAVID/POET
Seville, Spain
I lean my head back and let the sun bring its healing warmth into my skin. My eyes see dots even when they’re closed. The sounds of the small café make me relax. I’m outside drinking a coffee and eating a Spanish omelet.
I have been in Spain about three months and not a day goes by that I don’t think I hear her laughter, see long dark hair, and wish that somehow she has found me.
It’s ridiculous, but then again, we can’t help our thoughts. My eyes blink open as I glance up at a man staring down at me.
“God, you’re a fucking pain in my ass.” Reed pulls out an iron chair and sits.
“How the fuck did you find me?” I can’t help but smile.
Wearing a white, button-down oxford shirt rolled up at the sleeves and mirrored aviators, he stares at me.
“You look every bit the billionaire playboy.” I smirk.
“I had business in Germany and Paris. Otherwise, I would have been here two weeks ago.” The waiter stops by and Reed orders a coffee and water. He leans back. “You look healthy.”
“I feel good.” I look around the streets and gesture. “It’s hard not to be happy here. Look around.”
Reed glances around as if nothing much impresses him. “I had to have Jay hire a couple other guys to track you down. Still not into the whole having a phone thing, huh?” He reaches over and starts to eat my omelet.
I lean back and laugh, shutting a notebook, which is filled with my poetry.
He looks over at it, his green eyes curious as he points with his fork. “You writing again?”
“I am. It’s the best therapy for me. Nothing that I would publish. All of these are only for me.”
“Nice. So, when are you going to grow a pair and come home?”
“Jesus Chris—” I’m saved by the waiter setting down Reed’s coffee and water.
He raises an arched brow. “It’s time.”
I look down at my clenched hands thinking that it’s not the first time I want to throttle him.
“This is my home now.”
He throws back his head and laughs. “I thought you got therapy and shit in rehab? You sound like such a fucking pussy I want to punch you.”
I grab for my backpack and start shoving all my stuff into it. Reed is going to make a scene, or I am. So, I need to pay and go. Pulling out my wallet, I toss way too many euros on the table.
“Nothing? You’ve got nothing for me? You gonna sulk off? Be the tortured, misunderstood poet? Or are you a biker here?” He takes a sip of coffee.
I stop and sigh. “Reed, I have done a lot of work over the last months. Meetings, therapy, exercise. Hell, I even went vegan for a week.” I look up at his expressionless face and grit my teeth.
Silence fills the space between us and I almost get up to leave.
“So, I have to tell you. She’s doing okay.” I sit back as if he gut punched me.
“What?”
“Charlie. Tess and I have had her over a couple times. And I thought you should know that she’s okay.” He stretches out his long legs and crosses them at the ankles.
“My Charlie?” I must look crazy.
“Maybe you should have some water,” Reed says.
I stare at him and he stares back, a silent battle. “You love her.” He’s not asking.