Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 177397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 887(@200wpm)___ 710(@250wpm)___ 591(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 177397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 887(@200wpm)___ 710(@250wpm)___ 591(@300wpm)
My back barely braces against the battered wood when I’m confronted by another fool with a death wish. “He’s gonna need longer than a minute. But I’m up for a game of doctors and nurses if you’re seeking participants.”
I glare at Mikhail before twisting the door handle, ruefully yanking open the only entry point of my apartment and then gesturing for him to leave. “You have five seconds to get out of my house before your right nut joins your left nut in your stomach.”
He doesn’t take my threat seriously. “How’d you know you got my left nut?”
“You told me,” I bark out before I can stop myself, “two seconds before you fell to the ground and cried like a baby.”
“I know why he did that.” Vlad’s voice crackles with a sob. “I’m reasonably sure my left nut is gone. Like gone, gone.” He fiddles with his crotch like it’s a bag of marbles. “I can’t find it.”
“It’ll come back down… eventually,” Mikhail replies before he shuts my door with him on the wrong side of it.
“You’re not welcome in my ho—”
“If I can prove I didn’t know he was going to be there, will you at least give me five seconds of your time to explain that I’m not setting out to intentionally hurt you?”
I don’t back down without a fight. I just fail to mention that my anger is more centered on that the wrong brother showed up to celebrate my birthday.
“It was his home. Whether you knew he would be there that day or not doesn’t count. You knew he would eventually be there.”
Since he can’t deny the truth, he remains quiet.
“I guess you no longer need five seconds?”
“I—”
Since I’m feeling hormonal and my ego is obliterated enough to demand privacy, I cut him off. “Goodbye, Mikhail.”
“Sunshine…”
I open the door like my heart isn’t breaking from the devastation in his tone before stepping back so he can exit without bumping into me.
He stops partway through the door. “If you didn’t want him to react, you wouldn’t have used me to rile him.” He brushes his lips against the corner of my mouth. “You know how to reach me when you need me.” He flashes a ghost-like grin, mouths, Happy birthday, then gallops down the stairs Vlad is still hogging.
Silence reigns supreme under the healthy roar of a high-powered motorcycle rumbling through my building.
“Is he your boyfr—”
“Goodnight, Vlad.”
I close my apartment door before Vlad can voice all of his reply. I can still hear it since the walls are paper-thin. “Can I please get back the ticket to Vixens? If you’re not going to use it, I may as well give it to someone who wants it. They’re not easy to come by.”
I almost tell him to go to hell, but then I remember I’m no better than him.
I’m a cheater too.
He wobbles to his feet when I slide the ticket under the door’s lip. He gathers it up before locking his eyes with the peephole I’m peering through. “Would I be pushing my luck to get my leather jacket too?” My sigh is silent, but he must hear its ripples. “It was my pa’s, and I thought maybe I could hand it down to my eldest like he did me.” After another lengthy delay, his eyes turn pleading. “I swear it’ll be the last thing I ever ask of you.”
Hopeful he’s being honest for a change, I stomp to my room to grab the dust collector hiding in the back of my closet. I find Vlad’s jacket in under thirty seconds. It is next to the suit jacket that has a lusty scent as strong now as it was weeks ago.
I run my nose across the pricy material of Andrik’s business jacket before my head can demand my heart not to. It smells delicious, and our intermingled scents make me a mixture of angry and hot.
It should be impossible to miss a man you hardly know, but I’d be a liar if I said I hadn’t missed Andrik today. His attention is so thrilling that I forget I’m not meant to crave it.
I’m also not meant to throw my friends under the bus with me to achieve it.
Mikhail was right.
I used him to force Andrik to respond.
Since I am mad at myself, I thrust Andrik’s jacket back into its spot with the same aggression I used weeks ago. This time, since my hearing isn’t affected from the ringing tires rolling over asphalt for twenty-four hours straight, I hear a crinkle I missed last time.
My throat works through a hard swallow when I discover two documents in the breast pocket. The first one is a plain sheet of white paper holding two tickets for the concert I mentioned earlier tonight. The other is an official-looking document. None of the details are filled in, but the terms in black and white for the world to see all point to the same thing.