Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Instead of saying my inappropriate thoughts out loud, I murmur, “I’m not looking for anything serious.” Since it is the truth, it sounds that way. Nothing against Jess, she seems like a great girl, but I made a pledge to Octavia, and I can’t fold on it no matter how achy my nuts are.
Usually, admitting you’re not seeking any sort of commitment has women running for the hills, but Heidi shockingly stands her ground. “Good, because neither is Jess.”
“She’s engaged,” I say through a chuckle, hopeful it will hide the frustration in my tone.
My efforts are borderline.
Heidi drags some nicotine-laced smoke into her lungs. I’m not anticipating for her to reply for a minute or two, so you can imagine my shock when she says, “She was engaged. She isn’t anymore,” between inhalation and exhalation. After a final drag, she stabs out her cigarette, tosses it into a trash bin at our side, waves her hands in front of her face like it will eradicate the smell of smoke from her skin, then locks her eyes with mine. “And since he scared her from commitment, you don’t have to worry about her catching feelings.” She heads for the tinted glass reception doors before spinning back around to face me, “And, Caleb, you could totally make a killing dancing for brides-to-be who think they want a last hurrah but really don’t.” Her smile competes with the moon when she nudges her head to Kyla and the man I suspect is her fiancé necking in the corner of the drunk gathering. “And it would make a shit ton more money than being a waiter.”
I nod, agreeing with her, but it won’t alter the facts. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I can’t.”
The knocks keep coming when she asks, “Because you don’t like being touched?”
“Jess told you that?” I don’t know if I’m angry or confused. Perhaps a bit of both.
I’m more relieved than annoyed when Heidi shakes her head. “No. I overheard you telling Jess last week. But did you notice she didn’t once judge you on that?” When I jerk up my chin, incapable of hiding the truth, Heidi smiles. “Then perhaps you can be just as forthright with her as well. You don’t need to give her a reason for your error last week.” She waits to see if I’m going to deny her accusation I was in the wrong. When I don’t, she adds, “But you should make sure she knows it was nothing she did that caused you to respond that way.”
My chin veers in close to my chest before I have the chance to stop it. It is the most pathetic show of masculinity, but Heidi acts as if I granted her a lifetime of happiness and love.
If the vibe I get from Samuel when she rejoins him at the bridal table is anything to go by, she’ll have that and so much more.
Don’t ask for my prediction on my future, though. No one likes to be present during the lead-up to carnage. They only rubberneck once they’re sure there’s no altering the outcome.
CHAPTER 8
JESS
The glow Heidi’s happiness lit inside me is almost snuffed when my return to the reception area is interrupted by a drunk and ignorant Warren. I’m not surprised he’s drunk. I dumped my vodka shots into the ice bucket keeping the vodka cool, but he downed them with the rest of the bridal party as if his invitation was hand-delivered like mine.
His attendance didn’t indulge me with the ability to enjoy my best friend’s nuptials. Staying one step ahead of a sociopath is exhausting, and you can’t let something like alcohol weaken your defenses or they’ll take advantage.
Warren was the worst for that during my college years, and it seems as if his tactics haven’t changed.
After stepping into my path like Kyla did Caleb earlier tonight, he says with a slur, “Now that you’ve seen the bride and groom off, you’ve got no excuse to continue ignoring me.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I still have a handful of excuses up my sleeve. Most notable, the scar in the back of my skull from where you rammed it into a mirror,” I snap out while sidestepping him.
My back molars smash together when he stops me from entering the reception area by grabbing my arm. His hold is firm, and his nails dig in so deep I won’t be surprised if he draws blood. “I told you that was an accident.”
“And I told you you’d never touch me again, so get your hands off me right now before I—”
“Before you what, Jessmina?” He grips me even tighter, shocking me. He belittled me often during our six-year relationship, but it only became physical right at the end. That was the day I left him. “It’s just you and me in a dark and scary alleyw—”