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 lips purse like he just sucked a lemon. Good, now he can be the wounded one. “I guess you thought it was pretty funny on Friday night, didn’t you? Who was that guy?” he grunts, lowering his brow as he approaches.
We’re in the middle of a busy sidewalk, and it’s barely six o’clock, meaning it’s still fully light in late June. I have nothing to be afraid of, and he’s never hit or threatened to hurt me, so why do the hairs on the back of my nape stand on end?
I back up a few paces, glaring at him. “It’s none of your business who it was. Nothing would’ve happened if you had left me alone. I’m not going to ask you again. You need to stop doing this.”
“I’m sorry for giving a shit. I only care about what’s good for you.”
He can’t really be serious. “You’re not any better of a liar than you were a boyfriend.”
His chest puffs out. “I’m serious.”
“Congratulations. It’s about time you gave a shit,” I snap, before barking out another bitter laugh. “Because you didn’t when we were together, and you know it. All it took for you to notice me or give a shit was for me to breakup with you.”
“This isn’t funny. I’m fucking serious, Bianca.”
I can’t believe how stupid I was. How did I not see him for who he was years ago? It’s all so obvious now. The way he twists my words to make him the good guy doing his best while I’m the unreasonable one.
“You’re right.” I sigh. “It’s not funny. It’s pathetic. For five years, it was fine for you to run around and have your own life while I sat around waiting for you. Do you know why Tatum’s the only good friend I have?” I don’t give him the opportunity to answer. “It’s because she’s the only one who stuck around when you did everything you could to keep me away from the rest of the world. She was too damn stubborn. But you? You did whatever you wanted, no questions asked. How dare you stand there and tell me you give the slightest shit about what’s right for me?”
The weight on my shoulders lightens. That felt good.
“Listen to you.” His lip lifts in a sneer, and his gaze trails down my body in a predatory way. “I’m almost surprised by the outburst, but not really, given all that rough company I hear you’re keeping lately.”
No, no. No fucking way. It was bad enough what happened on Friday, but if he suspects I’m sleeping with Callum… Stop. That’s paranoia talking. He must know I moved in while Tatum’s gone and assumes I’m spending time with her dad. That’s it. “No, maybe I grew up a little. Maybe I see things through different eyes. I guess I should thank you for that.”
“You see things through different eyes? Good. Because I have something for you.”
My heart lurches when he reaches into his leather shoulder bag. Adrenaline crashes through me, taking over my fight-or-flight response, and I’m about to turn on my heels and dart across the street when he pulls his hand out. It’s not a gun or any kind of weapon that he’s holding. It’s a manila envelope.
“This is for you.”
“What is it?” I ask, eyes trained on the envelope. It’s slim. I’m sure there’s hardly anything in it.
“Open it and find out.” He holds it out to me. “Take it. It’s for your own good.”
Maybe it’s the fake gentleness in his voice or the fact that he believes he has the first clue what is and isn’t good for me. Whatever the reason, my blood boils. “You don’t have the first clue what’s good for me, Lucas, and I don’t know how you could ever assume you did.”
Irritation—and wanting to get this over with—makes me snatch the envelope from his hand. But I don’t open it. Instead, I tuck it into my tote bag. “There. I took it. Happy?”
His familiar, dark eyes pierce my own. “Don’t you want to know what’s in there?”
I shrug. “Not really.”
“You’ll feel differently once you see the proof,” he predicts with a smirk. “I have to wonder what your dear ole dad would think if he knew who you’ve been spending time with?”
My boiling blood turns to ice in seconds. Only pride keeps me from pulling out the envelope and tearing it open. “Get a life, Lucas. It’s over. I’m no longer your problem.”
He has the nerve to look like I’ve wounded him, all sad and pouty. It’s an old trick he’s pulled on me a thousand times. “Don’t you get it? I can’t leave you alone.”
“I don’t care what you can and can’t do. Leave me alone, or you’ll regret it.”
I try to sidestep him, but he cuts me off, his firm body pressed against mine, trapping me in place. To my horror, he leans in, his lips inches from my own. No fucking way.