Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
I wasn’t sure how I could face him now. Did I confront him? Ask him what the text from Calista meant? Maybe there was a good explanation that I needed to hear, and then this devastation that I was experiencing would go away. I’d have my bubble back. The one that I shouldn’t have started to feel secure in.
Micah hadn’t said he loved me. He hadn’t called me his girlfriend or labeled what we were. He basically lived here now. We were together every chance we got. Sex was amazing. The thought that he was seeing Calista…it felt almost unreal.
The faucet turned off, and I knew he was finished brushing his teeth. He would open the door and walk out at any minute now. His towel would be wrapped around his waist. All of his beautiful body on display. It was one of my favorite morning views.
Except now, all I could think was, had Calista seen it too? What had they done last night? What was it she had needed that he had supplied?
My stomach rolled, and I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply through my nose. Even if Micah didn’t love me, he cared. He’d called me his. He wouldn’t betray me that way. Would he? Could he do that? The man I loved didn’t have that kind of cruelty in him.
The door to the bathroom opened, and the moment he saw me, he smiled that slow, sexy grin that usually made my heart flutter. This morning, it didn’t flutter. It cracked.
Asking him was the only fair thing to do. For me and him. I was going to dwell on it, and this would just get worse if I didn’t know.
“You already had your espresso?” he asked me.
I couldn’t smile. I didn’t even try. I shook my head. “No.”
He studied me for a moment, and a frown creased his brow. “What’s wrong, Tink?”
Knowing the truth was better than making up my version of it, I had to hold on to the hope that there was a reasonable explanation.
Dropping my gaze to the floor, I took a deep breath before asking, “Where were you last night?”
He didn’t respond right away. Dread, fear, loss—it all began to uncurl inside my chest. Why wasn’t he saying anything?
“I told you, I was at the club. We had some issues to handle.”
I swallowed hard. He was evading the answer. I could hear it in his voice. There was more, and he didn’t want to tell me. Too bad. His phone had lit up when I was getting out of bed, and the text had been right there on the screen for me to see.
“Calista texted you.” I lifted my eyes back to look at his face. I needed to see it. If he was lying, I’d be able to tell.
His nostrils flared. “You reading my texts now, Tink?” he asked with accusation in his tone.
I thought I’d have preferred he slap me across the face. It would have been less painful.
“Not exactly. I was getting up, and you got a text. I glanced down and saw it. Not on purpose, but then I hadn’t thought you had anything to hide.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t,” he replied. “But it seems like you’ve already made your assumptions.”
I shook my head. “No. That’s why I am asking you what it was about.”
Micah let out a hard laugh. “I don’t answer to anyone. You can either trust me or not.”
I refused to cry in front of him. He wasn’t giving me anything here, and it sounded like he wasn’t going to.
“I trust you. But I don’t see why I can’t ask what you were doing with Calista last night.”
“That isn’t your business. Don’t make this something it isn’t, Dolly.”
Dolly. Not Tink. To think, once, I had hated the name Tink. Hearing him say my name now was like an insult. As if I had been knocked down on the ladder of importance to him. Did he have a nickname for Calista? Had he called her by it last night?
“I see,” I managed to get out past the agony gripping me by the throat.
He shook his head. “Whatever. I can’t deal with this shit right now,” he said, sounding annoyed before walking into the bedroom.
Unable to move, I stood there, battling on what to do now. Did I apologize? Or did I go in there and demand he tell me? This was my business. We were…together. Right? It felt like we were. He had called me his. That made us a couple. Didn’t it?
I flinched at the sound of him slamming a drawer shut. He was angry. Why did he get to be angry? It was me who should be slamming drawers. Not him. Nothing had been done to him. I hadn’t caused him to question me. I had been here last night. In my bed. Sleeping. Trusting him.