Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 145634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
I know Madox is going to find out I’m here in T-minus five seconds. If by some miracle he doesn’t see me tonight, then they’ll tell him. Deep in my gut, I know I’m kidding myself to think he’s not going to be right at the bar beside me in just a moment.
I brace myself for the inevitable.
As I follow Brett and Ryan, smiling and laughing as they head to the bar and announce to the bartender their good friend is back in town, I think, what the fuck happened to keeping the past in the past?
CHAPTER 3
Madox
Seven years ago
“So you and Sophie?” Ryan asks me and I look him up and down as he stands in the doorway. I don’t know what to tell him, or the other guys… It just happened.
“I didn’t think you’d go for it,” he adds when I don’t answer him right away.
“Why’s that?” I ask him and he tilts his head to the left, as if to say, ‘you already know.’
“Yeah,” I tell him, thinking about how we hooked up last night and the night before and how much I wanted her this morning, even knowing I shouldn’t have touched her in the first place. “Me and Sophie.”
“You know what people will say, right?” he asks and that’s when I tell him to fuck off.
Today
Long days at the office.
Long nights at this bar. My bar.
I’ve spent a lot of nights sitting back and wondering what she’d think about it.
Which is why this moment doesn’t feel real. I’m only a shot and one beer in; I don’t even feel a buzz. However, for a split second, I question whether or not I’m just seeing what I want to see.
I only got up to check on the bartenders and the inventory. Standing at the far end, I see the one girl I’ve been waiting to see for so long.
“Whiskey,” I order the second I see Samantha, one of the waitresses, walking by me, headed to the back. My eyes don’t move to her to see if she’s heard me or not. I can’t rip them away from the girl at the bar.
Two and a half years I shoved myself into this project, making each piece perfect, specifically designed for her. When it was over, that pause in time where I wasn’t constantly busy with things that needed to be handled imminently, that pause in time would have killed me if it weren’t for the men I’d like to kill right now.
It’s difficult to keep a calm expression while accepting the tumbler of whiskey from Samantha with a tight smile.
I wouldn’t have seen them if I’d stayed in the pool room. I try to remember how long they’ve been out here, but my mind is fucked.
My pace drags slowly as I stop at the end of the bar, staring down my best friends. I’ve thought of seeing Sophie again so many fucking times. Never once did I imagine Brett and Ryan would be chatting with her in my own damn bar when the moment came.
Ryan’s too close to her. After he slips off his jacket, he places his hand on her shoulder and they both laugh. My eyes narrow as I watch, and my fists clench involuntarily.
My gaze lingers on the curve of her neck and the way she shivers when he takes his hand away from her bare skin. She’s mine. At one time, she was nothing but mine.
There’s a hint of a blush on her cheeks as they lean against the bar. He always liked her; all of my friends did. At least Brett isn’t hovering over her. I could still punch the grin off his face right now, though.
Checking my phone, I make sure they didn’t send a message that she was here. They didn’t. She’s right here, and they didn’t tell me.
An agonizing mix of emotions stirs inside of me. Questions ricochet in my head and they don’t stop.
When did she get here? Why is she at the bar with them? Were either of them going to tell me? The jealousy that creeps up on me, making my hands tingle when they form white-knuckled fists as Ryan clinks his glass with Sophie’s, is unreasonable. He’d never go for her.
I know Ryan, and I know Sophie. He’d never do that shit to me and neither would Sophie. But maybe he knew she’d be here? If any of us would have known, it would be Brett. His sister tells him everything, but he would have told me. The anger rises as I question why no one told me. How fucking long has she been in New York?
It doesn’t matter; none of the questions barreling through my mind matter either. I’m already striding toward them, hearing her sweet laugh ring in my ears before I can even think straight.