Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“If you were honest, you would have told me about him.”
“Why would I do that? I’ve been trying to get over him.”
He scoffs. “So now you tell me you aren’t over him?”
I let my head fall back, a frustrated huff leaving my lips. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
He grabs me then, pulling me into his chest. I try to hold back, but he’s stronger, and he holds me close as he gazes down at me. “I love you, Tennessee, and I want to make a life with you. Don’t throw away what we have for a one-night thing that was only about sex.” His eyes burn into mine. “I saw the way he looked at you. He only wants to fuck you. He doesn’t care who you are, how incredible you are, how smart you are. I do, though. I love all of you.”
I’m unable to think or even react, and he drops his mouth to mine. It feels all kinds of wrong. His words, his actions, his lips, it’s all just utterly befuddling. I pull away, covering my mouth as I shake my head.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I say, stepping out of his arms and climbing into my truck.
I go to shut the door, but he holds it, his words stopping me. “Are you going to see him?”
“Probably not,” I admit, because I don’t think I will.
“But if he asks, will you?”
I shrug. “Troy, I don’t know. I need to think.”
He nods. “I’m not going to sit back and just let you go.”
I press my lips together. “I don’t want to hurt you,” I admit to him. “Just give me time to think.”
He wants to fight me. I can tell he has a lot to say, but I don’t allow him to. I pull on the door, and he reluctantly lets go, allowing me to shut it. I feel him watching me as I start the truck and drive off. I feel like trash, and I hate that I’ve hurt him, because I do care for him. He has been nothing but good to me, and I know this makes me an asshole. I’ve known from the beginning that he has felt more for me than I’ve ever felt for him. Or than I’ve allowed myself to feel for him. I couldn’t. Not when I won’t allow myself to feel anything but what Dart brought out in me.
Just his name reminds me of the pain I caused him, and now I feel even more like trash.
I hit my mom’s name on the CarPlay, and her voice fills my truck. “How was your first day?” A sob rips from me, and fear laces my mom’s voice immediately. “Oh, Tennie. Darling, what’s wrong?”
Unable to see, I pull off to the side of the road, throwing the truck into park and letting my head fall to the steering wheel.
“Tennessee Lynn, what is wrong?”
Another sob tears from me, and I feel like I can’t breathe as I squeeze my eyes closed. “He was there. I saw him.”
I don’t have to tell her his name for her to know. Her breath catches. “Oh, Tennie.”
I swallow the next sob and tell her everything. She doesn’t say a word; she only listens, her breath catching as much as mine had.
“Mom, it was so wonderful, yet so terrifying, because it was as if nothing had changed. As if these last three months didn’t even happen. I was thrown back into that room with a vengeance. And then Troy showed up, and now I feel like trash.”
“Oh, my darling, you are not trash,” she tells me, but she’s my mom. She’s supposed to say that. In her eyes, I’d never be a cheating whore. “You didn’t know that was going to happen, and you were honest with Troy—when most would have lied.”
“I’m a cheating whore, aren’t I?”
She scoffs. “Hardly, my sweet girl. You got caught up in the moment with someone who obviously has you in knots—and who you still feel something for.”
He does have me in knots, and I do feel something for him. But what do I do? Do I break up with Troy and jump into something with Dart? How can I do that to Troy? But how can I not when I don’t feel for him even an inkling of what I feel for Dart? Three seconds, I swear that’s all it was, and everything I felt totally overshadows the last month with Troy.
I take a deep breath. “What do I do, Momma?”
She doesn’t answer as the tears rush down my face, and I wipe them away, hating them. I feel like I’m not in control of who I am, and I don’t like feeling that way. “Have you asked Dart what he wants?”
“Huh?”
“Like, is he only wanting to hook up? Or is it more?”