Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
“Never,” Court agreed. “But in this, we’re agreed. He was the smart bastard to elope. My mom would never forgive me if I did the same. So, here we are. At least you and Whit made it all happen quickly.”
“I mean … her dad is dying,” I reminded them. “Hence the expediency.”
“Hence the whole reason you decided to go through with it,” Sam added.
“But not anymore,” Camden said.
“No, not anymore,” I said with a drunken smile on my face. “Tomorrow, she’ll be my wife for real.”
Once we had chips colored up, Camden set down several thousand-dollar pieces as a tip for the dealer and then gestured for us to leave. Only Camden could be that casual about tipping like that. We exchanged our chips for cash, exited the gambling hall, and fell into an awaiting limo. Court poured another glass of whiskey, which Camden took, but Sam and I declined. I couldn’t drink another drop. I had to be semi-coherent tomorrow. I wanted to be fully coherent for Whitley.
Maybe I had plans to be lucid for tonight too. Because Whitley had said that we should spend the night apart, but I had no interest in that. I had every intention of sneaking up to her apartment and seducing her. Neither of us was a virgin or innocent by any means. I didn’t want to spend another night away from her again.
“Man, you’re a goner,” Court said with a laugh.
I glanced over at him in confusion. “What?”
“I was talking to you, but you were off in your own world. Thinking about your wedding night?” Court winked at me.
“Thinking about tonight actually.”
Sam grinned. “I thought you weren’t seeing each other tonight.”
I shrugged. “Plans change.”
Camden clapped me on the back. “Go for it.”
That was all the encouragement I needed. Camden was always right.
The limo dropped me off first. I said good-bye to my boys and then headed into the lobby of my building. I clutched the door as I entered. Everything was spinning. Fuck, I’d had more to drink than I thought. I could barely stand up. A laugh escaped my lips.
I just had to get to the elevator. The rest would work itself out.
I walked to the bank of elevators on the other side of the black-and-white tiled room. I jammed a finger onto the button. A second later, the elevator dinged open, revealing a woman who looked vaguely familiar.
“Excuse me,” she said, trying to bypass me.
“Oh. Sorry.” I stepped out of the way. My back hit the other wall, and my vision blurred again.
Why did she look familiar? It wasn’t someone I’d hooked up with. Or at least, I didn’t think it was. I didn’t remember them all, but still, that wasn’t why she looked familiar. I couldn’t place her.
She was tall with brown skin and lush, long hair. Her clothes were edgier than the normal inhabitants of the Upper East Side apartment building. As if she belonged in Brooklyn and had wandered into the wrong part of town. She looked like she’d been crying.
“Do I know you?” I stammered out as she walked past me.
“That’s not a very good pickup line,” she snapped as she continued to walk away.
Then, it hit me.
I’d only ever seen her in pictures. Pictures that Whitley had shown me from when she lived in California. Pictures of her actress ex-girlfriend.
“Safia?”
She stopped walking and slowly turned around. “How do you know my name?”
“Fuck,” I spat under my breath.
Because if this was Safia, then there was only one reason she was here. One person she had come to see. On the eve of our wedding at that.
Her hackles went up as I cursed.
She crossed her arms over her stomach and then finally took a look at me. She sighed heavily. “It’s Gavin, right?”
I nodded once.
We stared at each other across the space of that lobby. Only a few paces between us. The last couple of years of Whitley’s love life. Her past and present. I’d never known Whitley to ever go back to someone after they hurt her. But she’d come back to me, and we’d made it work. She had been with Safia a lot longer than our two-night stand in Puerto Rico.
“I guess you won,” she finally said.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
She just shook her and walked out of the building.
Confusion clouded my features. I’d won? Had Safia come to try to change Whitley’s mind? Had Whitley chosen me? What exactly had happened?
I pulled my phone out to see if Whit had tried to call or text. Surely, she would have let me know that her ex had shown up on the night before our wedding. But there was nothing there.
The alcohol in my system was clouding my mind, but it was draining away as I stared down at the blank screen. Not a word from her? That didn’t seem right. Whitley was the burn the world down kind of person. If Safia had shown up at her place and she’d turned her away, she would have told me to clear the air.