Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
His mouth tugs upward at one corner and light flickers behind his blue eyes. “Like I told you before, I’m on the verge of breaking something big. I’ll tell you more about it once it’s safe.”
“That sounds serious.”
“It is. Very.” He goes to a dark place for a second, his gaze hardening, but just as quickly, he brightens up like nothing happened. “I want you to call me as soon as you’re finished looking at the studio apartment tonight. I want to hear all the details. Including the location.”
“Why? So you can have a patrol car parked at the curb day and night?”
“You know me too well, sweetheart.”
“What do you think?” The building’s burly owner stands in the doorway leading out to the hall, thumbs hooked into his belt loops. “I don’t want to rush your decision, but I have three interested candidates who already looked at the place.”
I’m sure he does, but I also know this is a pressure tactic to get me to make up my mind. “It’s really nice,” I tell him, and it’s the truth. There are plenty of windows, so I’ll get lots of sun, and the living space itself is bigger than I expected. The kitchen is compact, but the stove and fridge are brand new. The bathroom is a nice size and extremely clean. There’s not a speck of rust or grimy grout.
“Of course, I’ll need first and last month’s rent upfront,” he continues. “But I ran your credit application already, and everything looks good, so I’d have no problem with having you sign immediately.”
Now I sort of wish I’d let Dad come with me, as childish as it sounds. I don’t like feeling forced into this. I’m not the kind of person who’s ever been able to make split-second decisions, at least not over something as big as this. Signing a year-long lease is a big step, and I’ve never taken it by myself.
“Can you give me till tomorrow morning?” I ask, turning away from the windows in time to watch him scowl before he fixes his expression.
“I’ll be in my office by nine.”
“Good. I’ll call you first thing in the morning.” My footsteps echo off the new laminate floors as I cross the room and head for the door. The couch could go here, and my bed in this corner. I could buy a screen to partition it… “Thank you so much for taking the time to show me the place. I really am interested. I just need to—”
“You don’t need to explain. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He locks the door behind us and follows me down the stairs to the busy sidewalk. Quaint shops with apartments on the upper floors line the opposite side of the street. A girl walks past with two leashed dogs while a couple crosses her path, pushing a stroller. The little girl inside reaches for the pups, and everybody smiles, including me.
I love the idea of living in the center of everything, being able to walk to the corner store or to one of a dozen restaurants within a couple of blocks. Seeing the same people every day and getting to know them. The commute to work will be way simpler. With all the good that comes with this place, it still has its cons. Living here means leaving Callum, and I realize as I say goodnight to the landlord that the thought of leaving him is what’s holding me back. I could make it work here for a year. The problem is, do I want to?
It’s this or risk my friendship with Tatum. I know this is the safest way. The only option that leaves our friendship in one piece and their father-daughter relationship intact. Even if it hurts, I need to do the responsible thing. Being an adult means making tough choices, though this one seems to have made its own choice.
“What did you think? Are you moving in?”
My stomach clenches and my heart takes off at a frightening speed when I whirl around and find Lucas sitting on the front stoop of the building next door. There’s no way he’s not following me. I shiver at that knowledge. He’s dressed in a T-shirt printed with the gym’s logo, so maybe he just came from work to spy on me?
“What do you want?” I growl because, damn it, I will not shrink back and let him scare me. “And why the hell did you bother my dad? Can’t you get it through your thick head that we’re over?”
He has the nerve to look offended as he stands and brushes the back of his shorts off. I could push him into traffic and not blink. I should. “With that attitude, I assume you don’t want to hear what I have to say?”
“What you have to say?” I’m almost shocked at the audacity. “Why would I care what you have to say?” I throw my hands into the air with frustration. “I listened to you for years. I bought every lie and every excuse. Every word that came out of your mouth, I heard. In my eyes, you hung the moon. Not anymore. I’m tired of listening to your bullshit. It’s over. We’re over.”