Series: Torn and Bound Duet Series by K. Webster
Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
A dark eyebrow arches up. I hate the way my gaze automatically falls to his lips as he drinks from the bottle—lips that were on mine twenty minutes ago. Full, soft, pink lips.
“Hate?” he asks. “Why do you hate me?”
“I wish I could hate you,” I amend. “But…”
“But I’m so hot it’s kind of hard.”
I flip him off, stealing the bottle back. Instead of letting go, he tightens his grip. His fingers are hot beneath mine. Fuck if I don’t imagine them wrapped around other things besides bottles.
Not. Fucking. Helping. Ashton.
“Ash.” Brayden releases the bottle but pins me with an intense stare. “You love Mia? Well then, fight for her. At the very least, you talk to her about your chaotic feelings.” His brows furrow and his head dips down, despair leaking into his features. “Losing your best friend because you can’t communicate over your emotions fucking sucks.” His brown eyes lift to meet mine, and the sadness in them reflects my own.
“How is it that you of all people understand what I’m going through?” I complain.
He chuckles. “I think God is punishing you for being an asshole.”
“I’m commiserating with you. Is God punishing you, too?”
Brayden recoils slightly, his entire body turning stiff. “Yep.”
Now it’s my turn to be concerned. We were joking, yet it’s clear to me he believes he’s being punished for something. For whatever’s happened between him and Drew? It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask, but he clears his throat and stands.
“I probably better go.” His voice is gravelly and pained. “You going to be okay now? I’m not going to get a call to come bail you out of jail for breaking and entering or stalking or some shit?”
A snort escapes me. “If I go to jail, I’d much rather call Dad. It gives me great joy to see how many shades of crimson his face can turn when he’s equal parts pissed and embarrassed. But you could totally come along to film it.”
“You’re such a dick.” His tone is no longer despondent, and I’m surprised that I’m thankful about that. “Seriously. Will you be okay?”
I don’t know why he cares.
Because we kissed and he liked it.
My blood heats, but I blame the tequila.
“I’m not going to drink myself to death if that’s what you’re wondering,” I tell him.
He stares at me for a long beat before turning his back on me. I can’t help but run my gaze over his muscular, masculine form. I fucking kissed him. I kissed this guy I supposedly hate because he’s hot and maddening and it felt good.
Mia deserves better than me.
Not some asshole who bounces—literally—from one dick to the next.
“Brayden,” I call out when he opens the door.
He glances over his shoulder at me, the sharp angles of his jaw clenching. “Yeah?”
“Thanks for…”
The pep talk. The unexpected quasi-friendship. Stopping me from further fucking things up with Mia.
And the kiss. The kiss. The fucking kiss.
“For what?” he asks, his husky voice setting fire to my alcohol infused blood.
“For tonight.” My eyes drop briefly to his lips, a painful memory lingering in my chest.
“See you around, Ash.”
The door clicks closed behind him. Misery clouds around me, reminding me I’m once again all alone. When Brayden was here, comforting me in unexpected ways, it was easy not to let this thing with Mia consume me.
He’s gone, which means my dick has gone back into hibernation.
My heart, though, is back to bleeding for the girl I love.
“Mia! Let me in! I want to talk to you!” Ashton yells from the other side of Mia’s front door. “Mia!”
I encircle my arms around Mia and bring her closer to me on the couch. “I can tell him to go away.”
“No.” She shakes her head, sniveling loudly. “Don’t open the door. If you do, he’ll slip right through the cracks.” She rests her head against my chest and her entire body shakes as she cries. “I can’t let him in. I can’t handle him hurting me anymore.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket with a text, but I don’t answer it, telling myself it’s because I want to give Mia my full attention. But the truth is, I’m scared to check it. Right now, I’m focusing on Mia. Her hurt. Her anger. Her pain. And in doing so, I’m ignoring the myriad of feelings that are stirring in me and threatening to break free. If I check my text and it’s either of them, I have no doubt those feelings will erupt, and then I’ll have to deal with them.
My thoughts go back to earlier.
Ashton kissing Brayden…
Brayden kissing Ashton back…
If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t even believe it. Ashton kissing Brayden, sure. He’s an equal opportunist. But Brayden… my Brayden was kissing him back.
Just as the knocking and yelling stops, my phone vibrates again.