Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
“What is it?” he demands, lighting a cigarette, which causes my nose to twitch.
“It’s nothing, but I don’t think they like me.” Sitting up again, I blink at his look of confusion.
“Who doesn’t like you?” His eyes narrow.
“All of them.” I bite my lower lip, wishing I’d stayed silent. “It’s absurd, and I have Gia, so I’m sure it will be fine.” I pull my hair up on top of my head, fastening it with the band I keep around my wrist, and wonder if I should have kept it red. I decided last week to have Doug change it back to blond. The upkeep of having to do the roots every three weeks was going to destroy my hair. Plus, I’m still not divorced, so I’m trying not to spend much money. Especially since Matthew and my dad call Diana whenever I use my American Express card.
He inhales deeply. “Why haven’t you mentioned this? I thought you were close with Dolly and Doug.”
“I am, kind of.” I shake my head and drop my hands dramatically to the bed. “I’m being ultrasensitive. They’ve all been… fine.” I force a smile to my lips and, based on his frown, wish I hadn’t said anything.
“Julianna, I have a ton of shit going on. I really don’t want to have to have a discussion with my brothers about this.” After grabbing his phone, he leans down to give me a kiss.
“I said I was fine,” I say curtly. “You asked me what was wrong, and I told you. I think they tolerate me because I’m still here.”
He clenches his teeth around the tip of the cigarette and crosses his arms.
“I think they’re Team Cindy, and until you make some grand announcement that we’re together, I’m just a whore in your bed.” I spit all this out because it’s the truth, and I really don’t want to go tomorrow.
He slowly takes the cigarette out of his mouth and cocks his head. “What’s your idea of a grand announcement? Because you’re in my bed, and I fuck only you. As for anything else, I’m not there yet,” he grits out. “I have to go. I’m late. You’re a big girl, Julianna. Figure this out. You don’t want to go tomorrow, don’t fucking go.”
Looking up at him, I toss the covers off. “So much for communication, Ryder. You asked me what was wrong. I told you and your advice is not to go. Cindy is going to be there. Don’t you get it?” I throw up my hands.
His eyes trail up and down my body and I hate that I instantly get wet and my nipples harden.
“I’m facing triple-murder charges, my love. Jail. So no, Julianna, I don’t give a fuck about Cindy. You don’t want to go…” His eyes lock with mine, and that storm is back in those golden-brown eyes, swirling almost like a hurricane that’s picking up speed. “Don’t go.”
He turns and walks out. Taking a deep breath, I sit down on the edge of the bed.
“Jerk.” I take another deep breath. He doesn’t get it, but in all fairness, this was probably the wrong time to bring it up. He is facing jail time.
Jail.
I jump, refusing to think about that. It won’t happen.
It can’t.
He’s innocent, I chant in my head as I look around our room, forcing my mind to not go there.
What would I do? He’s become my everything, an addiction I couldn’t quit even if I wanted to. God, I even love living in this room with him. It’s somehow become more than a room; it’s a safe space and it’s all ours. He may not say the words, but I know he feels the same way. I glance over at the large, seven-drawer dresser he brought home, saying he was sick of tripping over my suitcase, and to unpack. Then there are the shelves he put in the bathroom so that I have a spot for all my makeup, creams, perfumes. It’s the little things. The way he touches me, the way he makes room for me. These are what matter.
With another sigh, I acknowledge the truth: I’m lying to myself. Those words mean everything to me. It’s as if I’ve protected myself from this very feeling, running from it because I knew it could hurt me. But somewhere along the way, I gave that up.
I love him.
I want to spend every day with him, yet that may not be my destiny. He may go to jail, and then what?
Standing, I reach for my phone, my head pounding already. I text Gia.
ME: Come now.
Tossing it on the bed, I walk to the bathroom and start the shower. He’s right. I freakin’ hate when he’s right. If I don’t want to go, don’t go. It’s so simple and easy. Life’s too short to do stuff you don’t want to do.