Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 94834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Guilt tears at my chest. It’s one thing to have to sacrifice her, but having to do it after getting the slightest window into who she is . . . man, it’s going to suck.
Zade was right to warn us away from her. We can’t afford to be making attachments. She’s barely been here two weeks and already Dalton is in too deep. He won’t physically admit it, but I see it in the way he looks at her. He’s infatuated. He thinks he’s just having fun with her, thinks he can handle it, but the day Zade carves her still-beating heart out of her chest will be the day something dies inside of him.
Despite how much it might suck for Dalton, having her hating on him right now might just be what’s best for him. Oakley doesn’t trust him, and nor should she. She shouldn’t trust a damn one of us. If she knew why we were protecting her . . . damn, this whole thing would blow up in our faces. All that matters is while she’s busy pushing him away, he’s being saved from getting too attached.
Zade narrows his gaze at her, and it’s clear just her presence is getting under his skin. “Is there something you need?”
She rolls her eyes as though just the tone of his voice offends her. “I’ve come to remind you that it’s Monday. I have a lecture at two that I can’t miss and work starting at five.”
Zade shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”
Oakley laughs, and the sound almost knocks me the fuck over, tightening something in my chest. “Oh, that’s sweet you think I’m asking permission,” she says while glaring at Zade, the two of them like fire and ice. “I’m telling you what my plans are as a courtesy. Believe it or not, I have a life outside of your twisted plans for me. I’m not your prisoner, and if I say I’d like to go to work to be able to pay my rent and keep my home, then that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Not all of us have the luxury of being Daddy Warbucks with deep pockets.”
Zade stands, and the rest of us watch on with bated breath, waiting for him to snap. She continues making her way toward us, and Zade intercepts her, stepping in front of her. “Maybe you’ve forgotten there’s a target on your head,” he says. “I’m not having my boys chase you around all fucking day.”
She crosses her arms and stares up at him, not intimidated in the least. Not like she was at the start. “Then what do you suggest?”
Zade arches a brow before glancing back at us and letting out a heavy breath. “You’ll stay here for the day and watch your lecture online, then we’ll accompany you to work.”
“You want me to just hang out in your apartment all day?”
“Did I stutter?”
Oakley groans and rolls her eyes. “Fine, but if I have to put up with your bullshit all day, I’m going to need charcoal. Both vine and compressed, and a large A3 sketch pad, too.”
Zade scoffs. “The fuck do you think this is? You’re here so you can avoid getting a bullet between your eyes. You’re not on a fucking vacation, and I’m sure as hell not your little bellboy.”
She grins up at him, her eyes sparkling, and just that look alone gets me hard. “Go fetch.”
Ahh, fuck.
Zade clenches his hands into tight fists and Dalton flinches, ready to break it up when Zade ultimately decides to take her out ahead of schedule, only he somehow manages to calm himself. “Watch your fucking back, Quinn,” he states, making her shrink away.
He doesn’t say another word before stepping around her and stalking toward the edge of the rooftop, pulling out his phone to no doubt call the hotel concierge. We hear bits and pieces of his conversation, and he’s just about to wrap it up when Oakley just has to go and stab a knife right through the fucker’s back. “Could you get me a juicy burger too?” she calls out, making his back stiffen. “A nice big one with ketchup and fries. Maybe a Diet Coke too.”
Ahhh, shit.
She just loves taking things from bad to worse.
Zade ends his call before whipping around and fixing Oakley with a death-defying glare. Fuck, it even sends a chill sailing down my spine, but not Oakley. She simply just turns to face us with a wide grin, so fucking proud of herself.
She strides toward us, collecting Dalton’s basketball as she goes, and just the thought of her touching his balls has him discreetly moving back toward the court, already rocking a semi. “So,” she says, bouncing the ball along the court. “Are you assholes going to put your bullshit aside so we can make today bearable, or are we gonna keep hating on each other?”