Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68391 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68391 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
“What?” he asks, sliding his hand around to cup my jaw and sweep his thumb over my bottom lip.
“This kind of overwhelming need I feel when it comes to you.”
“I’m not sure if it’s normal, but I feel it too.” His thumb caresses my lips again. “From the moment I saw you, I felt it.”
“You weren’t very nice to me the first time we met,” I remind him, resting my hands flat against his chest.
“Yeah,” he agrees, looking a little guilty.
“You’re lucky you’re handsome, Detective Miller.” I pat his chest, and he laughs as he captures my hand and kisses it.
“I did apologize,” he reminds me.
“Because your mom told you to,” I say; then I laugh at the look of surprise on his face. “She mentioned it the day of the barbecue.”
“I would’ve done it anyway.”
I raise a brow at him.
“I would have, and it doesn’t matter; you’re here now.”
“I am,” I reply, and he slides his arms around me, tugging me closer.
“I like you here.”
“Do you?”
“Oh yeah.” His lips press to mine, and I move my hands up to his shoulders and then freeze when his cell rings. “Shit,” he groans, and my stomach sinks. “While I get that, why don’t you go change?”
I nod, and he kisses the tip of my nose, then lets me go. I leave the kitchen and hear him answer the phone behind me with a brisk “Yeah,” but I don’t stick around to hear what else he says. I head down the hallway to his room and go in, closing the door behind me. I change into my sleep pants and T-shirt, then fold the clothes I had on and put them back into my bag. Once I’m done, I place the bag on the floor and go to the door. Since he’s still on the phone, I give him some time to finish his call. I grab my cell from my purse and open my texts. I see that not only has Lance messaged, but so have my dad and Lucy.
I fight back a groan of frustration when I see Lance has sent me his flight itinerary for the upcoming weekend, along with the information for the hotel where he’s staying. I send him a text, asking him to please not come, and then open the message from my dad. I take a seat on the end of Calvin’s bed as I read it.
We’ve put up with this foolishness long enough, Anna. It’s time for you to come home. Call me.
I text him back with shaking fingers.
I’m not a child having a tantrum, and I am home. I wish you could be happy for me and support me.
My thumb hovers over the send button for a moment before I press it. Whatever my parents’ deal is, I no longer care. Actually, I should have stopped caring a long time ago. When I open Lucy’s message, I frown, because at first it appears to be a dark, grainy image. Then my eyes focus, and I see a mostly naked Lance asleep in her bed. And I know it’s her bed, because I helped her pick out the spiral-print comforter that’s covering him from the waist down. I frown, wondering why she’d send me the photo, and then a memory hits me—one of Lucy doing the same thing when she was dating a guy and found out he had a longtime girlfriend.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, wondering how long they’ve been sleeping together.
“What happened?” My head flies up, and I shake it as Calvin comes toward me and takes my cell from my grasp. “Who is that?”
“Lance.” He frowns at me, then looks back at the photo. “I should say, that’s Lance in my friend Lucy’s bed. I think that photo is her way of letting me know they’re sleeping together.” He eyes me warily, and I grin. “Isn’t that great news?”
“Great news?” he asks, sounding confused. “I’m not sure it’s great news that the people you considered friends back in Chicago are all assholes.”
“I am.” I take my cell from him and then hold down my finger on the image to save it. “This means whatever reason he had for doing what he’s been doing is gone.” I open the text from him and send the photo, along with a message that says simply, Leave me alone.
“Did you just send him that photo?”
“Yep.” I look up and grin, then frown when I see the look on his face.
“Babe.”
“What?”
His eyes roam my face; then he shakes his head. “Never mind. We’ll deal with it when it happens.”
“Deal with what?”
“Nothing,” he says with a sigh. “Now, what do you want to eat? I’m gonna order our food.”
“Kung pao shrimp and fried rice,” I say. Then I ask, “What do you mean, ‘deal with it when it happens’?”