Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 112638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 563(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 563(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Rhys eyes Arsène with surprise and dissatisfaction, lifting my cardigan in the air between us. “You forgot this in my car yesterday. I’d have given it to you earlier, but practice ran late.”
My eyes snap to Arsène. I can see he’s done the math, that he gathers Rhys is my ex-boyfriend. The very one who got away. Arsène plasters a cocksure smirk on his face and sits back like a bored king, a sign his hackles are on the rise.
“Er, thank you. Rhys, this is Arsène. Arsène, this is Rhys.”
They shake hands, with Arsène not even bothering to stand up.
“An old friend?” my ex asks politely.
“God, no. I can’t befriend women I want to fuck.” Arsène laughs, deliberately crass. “No, I’m here to make Winnifred an illicit proposition.”
Rhys’s face pales, and his eyes bulge out. Christ.
“Well, thank you so much for the cardigan! You know I run cold. Ha ha.” I place a hand on his arm, ushering him back to his car. I am all but kicking him out, and I don’t feel good about it. On the other hand, I think I might die if Arsène and I don’t finish our conversation soon. My ex-boyfriend stumbles his way toward his car, glancing behind his shoulder.
“Who’s this guy, Winnie? He sounds like Satan’s big brother.”
“Don’t worry about him,” I singsong. “He’s surprisingly tolerable once you get to know him.”
“I don’t know.” Rhys stops in front of his Jeep but doesn’t make a move to enter. “I feel like I should stay here, make sure you’re okay.”
“I can handle this on my own.” I smile tightly.
Please, please leave.
“But . . .”
“My goodness!” I throw my hands in the air, losing patience. “I know you mean well, but please, Rhys, just let me handle this. I’m a big girl, and I’ve been doing my thing for over a decade without your help.”
I finally get it. It all comes rushing back to me now, at an incredible speed. The reason why I left here. Not all of it was Juilliard. Some of it was the suffocating feeling of being coddled by everyone, including—but not limited to—Rhys.
While it is true that he always meant well, he also frequently overstepped. He had defended me tooth and nail in front of Mrs. Piascki, our physics teacher, when I’d failed her class in tenth grade, which made her hate me for the rest of my high school years. When Georgie and I had gotten into arguments, he’d always plead my case and beg her to talk to me, when I simply wanted to be left alone. And whenever I’d gotten upset with him, which wasn’t often, he’d chalk it up to me being bored or on my period.
I didn’t like it then.
I don’t like it now.
Rhys stares at me in horror. “No one said you can’t handle yourself.”
“No, you didn’t say it, but you keep thinking it. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be acting this way.”
This makes him shut up. He presses his lips together, shooting his gaze to where Arsène is waiting on my porch.
“I guess you’re right. I’m sorry, Winnie. Sometimes I just . . . I don’t know. I get carried away when I care about people.”
“I’m fine.” I wrap my arms around him and squeeze, reassuring him that I’m not mad at him. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
He slides into his car and—thank heavens—drives away. I return to Arsène, who is waiting for me on the porch with his usual amused smile, like this is all a big fat joke to him. Only now I’m onto him. He isn’t amused. And he does care. This is just his defense mechanism when dealing with people.
“I see your tearful reunion with perfect Rhys is going well,” he remarks.
I roll my eyes, falling back into the rocking chair beside him. “I like you much better when you aren’t being sarcastic.”
He tilts his head skyward, letting out a sigh. “Then there’s no chance for me. Better grab my things and head back home.”
“Stop this,” I snap. “Say what you came here to say. We were in the middle of something.”
“Right.” He taps his knee. “Where were we?”
“I believe you were about to offer to be the father of my hypothetical children and pay for the entire delight.”
“Children?” His eyebrows shoot up. “I thought you wanted just the one.”
I shake my head. “Three. And I will need a surrogate to carry them. Which also costs a pretty penny. Still interested?”
I’m not seriously considering this, and neither is he. This is just one of his many games. I’m sure of it.
“I’m still interested,” he says flatly. Dang him and his weird sense of humor.
I give him a lopsided smile. “We can go around in circles forever, but I wanna know why you’re really here. With flowers.”
Do you really want to ask me out? Am I really about to abandon everything I ran away from and say yes?