Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
The past month has shown that I’m willing to give up a lot of external things I thought defined me and only then have I been stripped down enough to discover who I really am. Maybe I need to sacrifice it all if Logan and I are really going to have a chance. Because it’s ultimately what I’m asking of him, isn’t it? To choose me over his revenge.
“Miss? We’re here.”
I pay the driver and tumble from the cab. I’m still shaking with adrenaline and cold, but I don’t feel so empty.
Maybe that’s the answer. The ultimate sacrifice to the gods. I can give up everything. And be completely free.
I skip up the stairs and put the key in the lock of my apartment door, ready for a long, hot soak in my bathtub.
But when I push my door open, my apartment is…empty.
And I mean, completely freaking empty. We’re talking bare walls and bare floors. There’s not even a living room rug left. Or a lamp. It’s all gone.
“What the f—”
“I tried to tell you before you left the ball.”
I spin around, mouth open, to find Rachel standing behind me, her cheeks flushed and chest heaving. Her normally perfect bun askew. “I chased after you but you’d already gotten in the taxi.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before? We spent hours together while I was getting ready!”
She drops her eyes. “I don’t know. I guess I thought maybe you and Adam would work it out and it wouldn’t matter.”
“What does Adam have to do with this?”
“He’s the one who moved all your stuff into his place. As like, a surprise engagement present.”
Adam fucking Archer. What the hell is up with him? Did he always just stampede over people and then pretend it was a ‘present’ or a ‘surprise’ or was it only with women he was supposedly engaged to?
The gods want everything. But Adam isn’t a god. He’s a spoiled rich boy.
My hands are in my hair as if I’m about to rip it out by the roots. I force myself to let go, lower my hands and huff out a long breath. “This is so not okay. Where am I going to sleep tonight?” There’s zero furniture left in my townhouse. Just a dust outline of where my pictures used to hang on the wall. Fucking Adam Archer.
“You know what? Fuck this. I’m going to sleep in my own damn apartment. Come on. Let’s go get my stuff from Adam’s. You game?”
Rachel looks uncertain. “I don’t know. It’s so late already.”
I pull my phone out of my small clutch. “It’s only nine forty-five. And I don’t even have pajamas to change into here!”
Rachel bites her lip. “I’d say you could come back to my place but the guy I’ve been seeing has been staying over a lot and he’ll be there tonight…”
And now I feel like crap. “Oh Rachel.” I grab her hands. “I’m such a shit. You’ve got your whole life going on and a new guy and I haven’t even asked you about it. I swear I’m going to start being a better friend.”
She squeezes my hand and smiles wanly. “It’s okay. Really. Don’t worry about it. The new guy isn’t that serious.”
“But he’s staying at your place all the time?”
She waves it away. “Let’s go get your stuff. One drama at a time.”
I frown at my friend. Usually whenever she’s got a new man I can barely shut her up, she wants to analyze and dissect every single thing he’s said and done. But she’s bailing me out big time helping me tonight so I won’t push it.
“Come on,” she says, “I’ll told my cabbie to wait for me. I didn’t think you’d want to stay here.”
I nod and we hurry downstairs. I feel a little ridiculous running around town in my elaborate ballgown and updo, but whatever.
I’m taking back my life, dammit, and it starts now. With me sleeping on my own bed, with my own sheets and my own pillows.
Rachel’s quiet on the ride over. And again I feel like a crappy friend for monopolizing our friendship lately and not paying more attention to what’s going on in her life lately. I’ve been taking her for granted, and if there’s one thing I want to do better in my new life, it’s to value the people in life who matter.
Adam’s high-rise is next to the Crown hotel, and built to match the hotel’s famous white and gold style. All the Who’s Who of New Olympus have a permanent residence here.
“Wait for us, we won’t be long,” I start to tell the cabbie, but then Rachel jolts and says, “No, don’t wait.”
I frown at her but she says quickly, “We’ll just catch another cab. It might take awhile to gather your stuff together.”
Okay, fair enough. And cabs aren’t too hard to find in this part of town so we pay the cabbie and then walk into the lush white marble-lined lobby. My steps falter at the line of beefy security guards blocking the elevator. But Rachel knows just what to do.