Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
“How the fuck can that happen?” Do I just tell him? He is my best friend. I’ve never hidden anything from him in my entire life. But if I tell him, I’d have to tell him the whole story—including me being a murderer. I’m not ready for my best friend to look at me as a murderer. I pause, clutching my bathrobe in my hand. I need to tell him something, though, or he won’t believe me otherwise. Devon knows me. He knows that there’s no way in hell I’d ever be on board to marry anyone let alone some hotshot I met after one night.
“Fuck.” My hands falling in defeat before I turn to face him, my eyes coming to his worried ones. “You cannot say anything, Devon. This is serious and it involves a lot of people. Do you understand?”
“Goddammit, Isa!” He growls, walking toward me, every muscle on his chest flinching with his movements. He comes nose to nose with me, reaching up and clutching my face with his hands. Searching my eyes, he whispers, “I fucking love you, Isa. Tell me what’s going on.”
I exhale. “My dad, he, he sort of has to do with this. I’m… I owe him, and in order for me to get out of this rut he has put me in, I must marry Bryant Royal.”
“—What rut? And—hold the fuck up!” He pauses, his face stilling and his hands dropping from my face. “Bryant Saint?” He looks back down at me, his eyes searching mine, waiting for me to answer.
“Yes…”
“No!” He shakes his head, stepping backward and tugging on his hair. “No, fuck that, Isa!”
“Fuck… what?” I reply, confused while matching his retreating steps. Dropping my robe to the ground, I slowly make my way toward him. “What does ‘fuck that’ mean?”
He drops down onto the bed, his hair still dripping wet from his shower, then he stares off blankly in front of himself. “Nothing.”
“Right, okay, well now that you know, can you stop asking me questions?” I raise my eyebrows, about to throw out a sassy joke about how hot Bryant is when I see Devon’s distressed stare. “Earth to Devon?” I wave my hand in front of him, but he still doesn’t flinch.
“What?” he snaps, looking back toward me with a stare I have never seen from him before. Devon has been mad at me before, sure, what best friends don’t have disagreements and all that, but this stare was something else. It was as if he hated me.
“I said now that you know, you can leave me alone about the subject?”
“Oh.” Devon collects himself, smiling weakly. “Yeah, okay. I guess it makes more sense and all that.”
“Good.” I straighten my shoulders, surprised at how easy he was to convince. Even though I’m surprised, a huge relief has been lifted off my shoulders. “Now that that’s settled, I’m leaving tonight.”
There’s a long pause. “Isa?” Devon groans, dropping his head to his hands and leaning over his elbows which are resting on his knees. “Please just tell me you will be careful.”
I tilt my head. “Devon? What’s wrong?”
He stands to his feet while shaking his head. “Nothing.” Then he comes toward me, gripping the back of my neck and pulling my forehead to his lips. “Nothing at all,” he whispers against my skin. Stepping back, he smiles weakly and I see a sad glint flash through his eyes. “I better go. I have a photoshoot thing at twelve, and the photographer hates when I’m late.”
“Yeah.” I walk toward my half-packed suitcase. “I’ll see you a little later, or if I don’t, I’ll text you and we can grab some dinner or something?” I can’t imagine my life without Devon in it. The thought not only cripples me but it—nope. I’m not going there.
He smiles again, stepping backward slowly. “Yeah, Just… text me.” Then he’s gone in a flash. Pausing for a split second, I think over at what point exactly, did that conversation go weird. I come up with nothing. Devon and I have always been close, so I can usually read him. The second we met each other we hit it off, and I knew instantly that we were going to be best friends, so him acting this way obviously is him being jealous about Bryant suddenly railroading my life. He’s just being territorial.
Gathering up the last of my clothes, I head into the bathroom for all my toiletries and phone charger before slinging my backpack over my shoulder and wheeling my suitcase behind myself. I pause at the threshold of my room, turning around one last time. Last time? Maybe not. I don’t plan to stay with Bryant for long. The second he’s finished with whatever game he’s playing, I’ll be back. Switching off the light, I let that promise sink into an echo inside my brain…