Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“No. I’m saying that at that time, and perhaps even now, dating men doesn’t work for you. You’re fortunate to have found such a wonderful partner in Sienna. She’s really lovely, other than her aversion to small, sticky children.”
His breath caught.
I grinned at him. “C’mon, she sounded like she was being attacked by ninjas.”
His slow smile was a surprise. “In her defense, the dress was white.”
“Those were my very same thoughts last night,” I told him.
As he held my gaze, his smile fell away.
“Are we good?” I asked him.
He took a step closer. “I thought you’d be easy to replace.”
It was a horrible thing to say, but no good could come of me defending myself, or even responding to his comment.
“See, I was certain I stuck around because it was easy, because you didn’t ask much of me, and when we were alone together, I was content.”
I grimaced.
“No? Is content not a good word?”
I shook my head. “Content is comfortable, complacent, convenient, which…is exactly what our thing was. Nothing was happening, there was no movement with us, no growth, no change. And that’s on me. I was stupid to let it go on, but unlike you, who thought it was easy, I thought I could make you fall in love with me. I thought I felt enough for you that I could will it into being.”
“Will what into being?” he asked, sounding annoyed.
“The relationship I wanted,” I said with a sigh. “You know, the guy, my guy, the one I’d take to meet my parents, who would babysit my nieces and nephews with me, who would meet my friends and make plans for a future. I thought at any second, you’d look at me and think, how lucky am I?”
He huffed out a breath. “Well, I’m sorry I disa—”
“Don’t be sorry. It wasn’t meant to be. More importantly, it wasn’t supposed to be. I get it now. You’re not my guy, and I’m certainly not yours.”
His brows furrowed, and he took another step forward, which would have been too close, too intimate, so I took one back.
“You still smell like your soap and that oil you put all over your—”
“Which you hated,” I reminded him, “along with this sweater and my jeans and—”
“Do you—does a huge movie star like my uncle like bottoming for you?”
It was like being punched in the stomach, and that fast, I was furious. He saw his mistake when my eyes flicked to his.
“Sorry,” he whispered. “Really.”
I nodded. “I think we’re done, aren’t we? There can’t be anything left to say.”
He sucked in a breath. “You were not, are not, easy to replace.”
“Okay,” I said, and turned away.
The grip on my bicep was a surprise, as was the way he turned me back around to face him. “There was nothing to be done. You wanted more, and I needed it to only be what it was.”
“I get it. I hope you and Sienna will be very happy.”
His jaw clenched, and I felt him tighten his grip on my arm. “I feel very judged right now, and I don’t feel that you have that right.”
“There is no judgment, I promise you.” I felt so very light suddenly, and it hit me that even though I said I wasn’t worried about having a long-distance relationship with Ash, I was. I needed to own that without letting it eat me alive. I needed to tell him the truth. “My mother always says you gotta follow your bliss. Whatever that is for you, I wish you nothing but the best. And really, I have no regrets.”
Because I didn’t. Sometimes you had to experience something to know what you didn’t want so you could figure out what it was that you did.
“That’s good,” he rasped, his voice going out on him. “I’m glad.”
I smiled at him, and he lifted his hand like he was going to touch my face, but dropped it at the last moment before releasing my arm.
“Okay,” I murmured before I turned and saw Ash walking toward me.
“Hey,” I said. “I have news. We need to talk.”
He looked from Damien to me. “That’s good, because I came to collect you for a walk around town.”
“Great,” I said, and when I reached him, he wrapped an arm around my neck, pulling me in tight against him.
“Don’t wander off, all right?”
“I didn’t wander. I was on the phone.”
“But then you weren’t, and you didn’t come right back.”
He was keeping tabs on me. “I got waylaid.”
“I saw and didn’t like it,” he confessed gruffly. “I didn’t enjoy the way he was looking at you either.”
“Which was how?” I asked, admiring the glint in his eyes, the furrow of his brows, and the very possessive way I was being held. “With homicidal intent?”
“Like maybe he had once been something more to you than a stranger.”