Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Elsie and I set up the cups, and after just a few shots, we had a pretty good lead. And I have to admit, I was having a pretty good time. I took another shot, and as soon as I made it, Elsie started dancing around in the crowd. “We’re on fire.”
Our game had gathered a few onlookers, including Savage, who slurred, “Yes, you are,” as he sauntered over. “Damn, girl. You’re looking all kind of good tonight.”
“Thanks, but I think you might have your beer googles on.”
“No, I’m good.” A smirk crossed his face as he said, “I’d be even better if you came over here and planted those sexy lips on mine.”
“I’m good right where I am. Thanks.”
“You’d be even better over here with me.”
A knot was growing in the pit of my stomach, and with every word out of Savage’s mouth, it was growing bigger and bigger. I didn’t like the way he was speaking to her and looking at her, and I had to fight the urge to knock him flat.
Savage was the president’s son and one of my closest friends. The last thing I wanted to do was get into a round with him, but seeing him disrespect Elsie had me seeing red.
He took another slug off his beer, then staggered closer to Elsie. He dropped his arm over her shoulder, then drew her into his chest. “Why don’t you and I continue the party back in my room?”
“I don’t think so, Ace.”
“Why not? I’d show you a real good time.”
“I’m sure you would, but I’m not interested.”
She gave him a bit of a shove, pushing him off her. He stumbled a bit, then complained, “Come on, baby. Don’t be like that.”
“I think you got your sights set on the wrong girl, brother,” I said to Savage.
He looked at me, then back over at Elsie. He studied her for a moment, then to my pleasant surprise, he shrugged and walked away. Knowing he was drunk, Elsie didn’t think much of their little exchange and continued on with the game. I, on the other, couldn’t stop thinking about it.
I knew then that what I felt for Elsie was more than friendship.
I tried to fight it, but over the years, that feeling only grew stronger.
Needless to say, I wasn’t happy about her going out with some other guy, but sadly, there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
The drive to the house had not improved my mood. In fact, it had only made it worse, and it didn’t help matters that it was dark, and my place looked abandoned. I wasn’t exactly surprised. I hadn’t been home in over a week, and even then, I’d just come by to grab some clean clothes. I headed inside and dropped my keys on the counter. I stood there for a moment, just looking around at the place I called home.
The three-bedroom condo was relatively modern, with sleek lines and a muted color palate. The mix of dark grays and blacks gave it a masculine feel without making it feel too cold and uninviting. It could use a good cleaning, but I wasn’t in the mood. I was on edge and feeling restless, like a clock that had been wound too tight, and I was struggling to pull myself together.
Part of it was just your typical pent-up frustration, but there were times, like now, when I had a difficult time dispelling the feeling. I tried distracting myself by watching some television and fiddling with my phone, but the unease and disquiet remained in the background. I needed something more, so I turned off the TV, got up from the sofa, and headed to my room to change clothes. I put on a black button-down with a pair of black slacks and black shoes, then grabbed my keys and headed out to my truck, leaving my Fury cut behind.
An hour later, I was in the city, parked at one of the most popular nightclubs around. There was a time when I’d avoid a place like this at all costs. The loud music and flashing lights would send me straight into sensory overload, and I would shut down. I hated that something so trivial had such an effect on me. It made me feel powerless and weak.
I refused to let anything have that kind of control over me, so I forced myself to listen to the music, face the strobe lights, and mingle with the large crowds. At first, it was brutal. I could only take a few minutes at a time, but with each attempt, I was able to withstand it a little longer and a little longer. Some might call it torture, and in some regards, it was.
I couldn’t process it. I would experience extreme agitation like my nerves were being ground down with sandpaper, and it wouldn’t be long before the panic would set in.