Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 151430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
I take a long sip of wine, a sweet porter that feels like my only escape from the hell called this job, this life.
I just want to sleep.
At least I shocked the crap out of the boss before I left his office. He hasn’t called, texted, or emailed since. Must be too much to ask for.
I text Brina. Hey, fun news. Brandt Ideas is about to lose a massive deal because Beatrice Nightingale Brandt retired. Apparently, reputation matters, and her grandsons are in deep doo-doo. So deep we flirted with the office caveman faking an engagement to me.
LOL. Whose idea was that? Brina asks.
Nick’s, I send back, adding, Dudette. Ward’s reaction was instant 'roid rage rejection. You just had to be there.
The walls are closing in, Brina. It’s not just all the stress at work, or the fake fiancé nonstarter. It just...it reminded me of Austin.
My eyes sting with a force I didn’t know that stupid idiot and his bad memories could still muster.
Brina replies, It’s not the same! Don’t go down that rabbit hole, girl. Why did it make you think of Austin?
I don’t know, but I do.
I know what it’s like to be used, played with, and tossed away like a cold pizza crust.
But Brina doesn’t know Ward tongued me into a kiss-happy coma. I don’t even have words for that story yet.
Especially the part where he came back into his grandmother’s hospital room, slid my feet into those fluffy shoes, looked into my eyes like I was Cinderella, and said “No broken necks today, princess.”
And I kind of swooned.
Okay, I really swooned.
That’s why today, weeks later, I feel like a total idiot.
Fool me twice? I’m a girl who’s had her heart pounded into gravel. She should’ve been immune to a mindless flirt and a blazing kiss from her monster boss.
Why? Why did I open myself to more pain?
Maybe it wasn’t Ward’s usual trash that’s left me reeling.
Maybe it’s my own baggage.
My phone buzzes with a new text from Brina. You like him. Fess up.
Ugh.
No! Not in this lifetime. Catch me in the next, I punch back.
Paige Holly, don’t lie. You’ve got an office crush and you’re a crappy liar. If you didn’t have an office crush, it wouldn’t have reminded you of Austin, and it’s not like you guys even met at the office, so...bet you a thousand bucks he feels the same way. She sends a winking emoji.
Brina, shut up.
I tongue the roof of my mouth, denying it to myself more than to her. My phone pings again.
The dumb fake fiancé scheme was Nick’s idea, right? Not Ward’s. It probably won’t come up again. Just forget about it. Unless you’re hoping he changes his mind, I mean, so you can be Mrs. Brandt someday. This time her emoji has its tongue out.
No way and you know it!
Then just forget it, she sends. Never happened. Don’t you dare waste another second thinking about that Austin prick either.
Too late.
Mentally, I’m already back in the biggest humiliation of my life.
Years Ago
At a frat luau, junior year, Brina and I stand on the sidelines making fun of our drunken classmates.
A topless blond boy in swim trunks with cobalt-blue eyes walks up to us and gazes into my soul. “Your friend’s straight fire. Can I get her name?”
I grin at Brina. “Brina. Want her number?”
“Shut up!” Brina swats me with both hands.
Shirtless Blond Boy tucks an errant hair behind my ear. “I was talking about you.”
My heart jumps. My chest tightens. I can’t speak.
“Her name’s Paige. Need her number?” Brina asks with a lopsided grin.
His eyes never leave mine. “I’d rather go somewhere we can talk. Let her give me her number when she wants me to have it.”
Oh my God! All the blood rushes to my head. He holds his hand out.
I clasp it.
Then he leads me to a creek a few blocks from campus.
We talk until three a.m. He walks me home like a perfect gentleman and says he hates for the night to end, promising to walk with me to class in the morning.
I never really expect him to show the next day.
I’m used to gorgeous guys coming out of nowhere to talk big and then ghosting into thin air. But I open the door to leave for class a few hours later, and there he is.
“You weren’t going to wait for me, hot stuff,” he accuses.
I grin. “I didn’t think you would show.”
“Why?”
I shrug. “Frat boys have a bad rep for a reason.”
“Heh, yeah, no denying that.” He nods and scratches awkwardly at his neck.
But I chose to go into denial that morning, falling for Austin Gifford.
We were inseparable from that moment on.
Flash forward a year. His parents own a cabin in Sturgeon Bay. A bunch of us decided to drive up for spring break for one last rowdy, dreamy getaway that every Midwestern college kid needs at least once.