Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
We walk a few more steps before he stops and pulls me into his chest. “I hope you know I would wait for you, even if it was a year or six years. Every day you’re gone is going to suck major ass, but I’ll be thinking of you every second.”
“You know you really suck at not making me feel guilty.” I pout, sticking my lower lip out at him.
He leans in and pulls it in between his teeth before releasing it. “Good. I want the guilt to consume you.” A smile plays at his lips, and I can’t resist smiling back at him.
“It’s just six months,” I remind him. “That’s easy peasy.”
He sighs, brushing his thumb over my cheek. He presses a soft kiss to my lips, and I melt into him. Gryff starts whining, tangling his leash in between our legs.
Travis breaks the kiss and untangles the leash while muttering a few curse words.
“Maybe you can take him to a few of those puppy classes and get him all trained before I’m back.” I smile at my brilliant idea.
“He might need more than just a few.” He groans, adjusting the leash again and leading us back to the house.
Courtney is in heaven when we return, and she makes me promise to invite her over again soon to ‘visit Gryff.’ Travis and I avoid each other the rest of the night while I finish laundry. Drew’s already suspicious, so the more distance between us right now, the better.
The weekend flies by, with studying for finals and coming over to play with Gryff. Fortunately, Drew works all weekend, so we don’t have to pretend while we’re together. He continues wallowing around when he’s home, so I do my best to cheer him up and casually mention Courtney in conversation. As expected, he doesn’t take the bait, so I’m left watching him mope on the couch instead.
By Tuesday night, Drew is so damn anxious; I can’t take it anymore. Mia is to arrive any minute, and like usual, I sit on the couch, pretending to act indifferent. Travis has been bringing some of his work files home to look busy while Drew is home.
“Dude, drink this,” I hear Travis say. I look up and see him handing Drew a shot. “You’re wound up tighter than a G-string. You need to relax.”
“I’m trying,” he says through clenched teeth, taking the shot and finally pouring it down his throat. “But I haven’t seen her in so long, and I have no idea what she’s going to say, which is making me anxious as hell.”
He pats him on the shoulder and pours more whiskey in his shot glass. “Whatever happens, man, I’ll be here, okay?”
“Thanks.” He pours it down and holds it back out for a refill.
Tires crunch in the driveway, and we all look toward the door. Goose bumps cover my skin, and I can’t help feeling nervous for Drew.
“Do you guys mind staying out here while we talk in my room?”
“Whatever you need,” Travis answers, walking toward Gryff and me on the couch. You can barely see the front door from the couch.
We both sit silently, waiting to hear the first exchange. Drew opens the door, and we wait. Finally, footsteps enter the house. Her heels click on the hardwood floor as Drew wraps his arms around her for an awkward hug.
“How was the drive over?” I hear him ask. She mumbles a quiet not bad, and soon Drew is leading her down the hall to his room and then a click of the door.
I glance over at Travis who looks like he’s sweating and about to vomit. Even though I’ve told him—and myself—over and over that I trust him and that we’re going to make it work when I’m gone, I can’t deny the heavy feeling inside my chest that something isn’t right. Part of me regrets not hearing the whole story of that night, but proving I trusted him was crucial for our relationship.
We sit in silence as we watch the TV on a low volume. Gryff is asleep in my lap and the sound of Drew swinging his bedroom door open startles him awake.
“King!”
I jump at the volume of his voice. He’s not pissed; he’s enraged.
Travis jumps up and starts walking toward them. As much as I want to follow, I stay put. I don’t need to bring attention to the fact that I’m following Travis or that I’m eavesdropping on them.
“The fuck?” I hear Drew shout. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Finally, I can’t take it any longer and set Gryff aside as I stand up. I tiptoe out of the living room and down the hall where I can hear Mia crying and Drew yelling.
“That’s not how it happened,” I hear Travis say, defensive and short.
I take another few steps until I can peek through the door gap and look inside.