Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 79020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
I should've tied her to a chair that very first night I came in here and demanded she tell me what she knows. I have no doubt she would've easily disclosed any and all information she had. Now, everything is beyond fucked.
I catch sight of Jersey, the asshole who always whispers to her when I'm near, looking over his shoulder from the bar, and I want to rip his fucking eyes from his sockets with the way he frowns at the sight of her touching me. From the information I've gathered, the man is fucking married with kids at home. He shouldn't even be in here right now.
"I lied to you," she says over the din of folks getting ready to celebrate the New Year. "And I think I need to confess."
She dips her head before I can look into her eyes and attempt to try and guess at what she's going to tell me.
Jericho's "I told you so" echoes around in my head. Then, her other hand sweeps up my chest, and I'm locked in her gaze, nothing but the sounds of my slow pulse in my ears.
I should hear nothing but sirens, a volley of alarms telling me to get her out of here and take her to a place where there will be no witnesses when I have to do what I do best.
Having a connection to a trafficking ring and saying nothing, especially as a woman, is, as far as I'm concerned, lower than low. I know just from the time I've spent with her that she has more freedom than anyone who would be coerced into doing something illegal. If she's been lying...
"At first it was true," she says, her words barely loud enough for me to hear. "I just wanted to have a little fun, but I think I started to like you a little."
I blink down at her, waiting for her to tell me about her involvement, but it never comes. Instead, she chances a peek up at me, her teeth digging into her lower lip as she waits for my response.
I imagine myself kissing her, feeling the softness of her lips pressed against mine. I picture allowing myself to suck that lower lip into my mouth until she whimpers with need.
"What?" I manage instead.
"I like you."
"You like me?"
I attempt to take a step back, knowing I'm not hearing her right. Where's the lie? The confession I was certain was coming.
She clings to me for the briefest of seconds before her hands disentangle from my clothing, falling to her sides.
"I know." She huffs, throwing her hands up in frustration when I simply stare at her. "It's not very after-divorce hoe-phase of me, but there it is. I have feelings for you. I can't help it."
I open my mouth to speak but she shakes her head.
"I know what you're going to say," she says, her next words coming out in a deeper tone as if she's trying to capture my voice. "This can't happen, Zara. We were only meant to be fucking."
I fight the twinge in my cheek, knowing now isn't the best time to distract her with my need to smile.
When she speaks again, her voice is back to normal, making it a little easier to control my reaction.
"I know it's not ideal, but I also know that if you keep coming around, then I'm going to convince myself that maybe you like me a little too, but yeah I fucked up and caught feelings."
"That's your secret? That's what you've lied about?"
"It wasn't a lie when I said it," she mutters, looking down at her fingers as she tangles them together in front of her body.
Her face changes when she looks up at me, and I don't realize I'm smiling until the tip of one of her fingers traces the curve of my lip.
"That's fucking devastating," she says, stepping in closer to me.
The smile fades as quickly as it showed up, and instead of making her upset, she chuckles. I'll be damned if it isn't the most precious thing I've ever heard.
"I'm going to get a drink," she says, taking a step back, as if she somehow understands that I need a minute to myself to wrap my head around what she just told me. "You want one?"
I shake my head, hand reaching up to cup her face.
She bats my hand away. "That's the shit that's going to convince me that you like me. Quit being nice."
"I'll be mean to you later," I promise just as I drop my hand.
"You'll be here when I get back?" The concern in her voice claws at a soft spot inside of me, and I see the vulnerability in her eyes.
"Right here," I promise.
I watch the sway of her hips as she walks toward the bar until I sense someone else's attention where it shouldn't be. I look toward the bathroom to see a man in green, who I don't know, glaring a hole in my direction. Several people shuffle around, the bar growing more crowded, and when I try and find the guy again, he seems to have disappeared into thin air. I walk along the perimeter of the bar, but he's nowhere to be seen.