Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
I don’t know if I should start with ‘I’m sorry,’ or ‘Oh, fuck.’
“It would have been nice of you if . . . No. I cannot believe you accused me of trying to fuck you over. You know me better than that.”
I swallow hard. Fuck, I’m such an idiot. “Peyton . . .”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I understand your passion for your business and the employees that work for you. I’ve known from the beginning that you value each and every minute you’re working, but never would I have ever guessed you’d treat me as poorly as you have today.” She fixes her purse strap on her shoulder, pulling it closer to her body. “I would have expected you, out of anyone, to have respected me and my business enough to know I would never do that to you. Never deceive you or put your business on the line.”
“I didn’t know what to think,” I say quickly, trying to come up with anything to ease the hurt in her eyes and the devastation in my heart.
“You could have thought, ‘My girlfriend really likes me. No—I think there is possible love there. So even though these pictures look damming, I know she isn't capable of something so incredibly awful. Period.’” Love?
My heart swells just as it’s deflated by the look in her eyes.
“I’m sorry.” I drag my hand through my hair. “I was caught off guard.”
Leaning forward, she looks me dead in the eyes and says, “Then let me catch you off guard again. We’re done, Rome.”
“What?” She starts to walk off, but I catch her by the arm again. “Peyton, come on.”
“No, Rome.” She shakes her head, tears falling from her eyes that she quickly wipes away. She points to the coffee house. “Back there, where you first gave me the job to work with you on the women’s line, it meant the world to me that you trusted me enough with this project. And yeah, I might have fallen for you in the process of all this. But what it comes down to is that you’ve never really trusted me.”
“That’s not true.”
“No? Well, it sure as hell seems like it to me.” She shakes her head. “Don’t worry, I’ll finish out my work with Roam, Inc., see through the launch of the women’s line, but I’ll only work with Hunter on it. When it’s over, I’m through with Roam, Inc. Done.”
My chest constricts, my body is numb, and for the first time since I started dating Peyton, fear takes over me. She’s serious. She’s really ending this, and fuck if that doesn’t devastate me more than anything.
Fuck the business.
Fuck the women’s line.
Fuck Project Mountain.
I can’t lose Peyton, not after everything we’ve been through, not after I’ve . . . I’ve . . .
Before I can come to terms with my feelings, Peyton is walking down the sidewalk, not even bothering to look back at me.
I tell my feet to move, to chase after her, but for the life of me, I can’t seem to listen. Because all I can hear are her words: “We’re done . . . I might have fallen for you in the process of all this. But what it comes down to is that you’ve never really trusted me . . . We’re done.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
ROME
“It’s called a shower,” Hunter says, barging through my office and taking a seat in front of me, a folder in his hand. The dickhead has actually been doing my job for the past two weeks.
My job of working with Peyton, and I can’t fucking stand it.
I know when every meeting occurs, when it ends, and the exact moment they part ways, because Hunter texts me the goddamn update every time.
Just getting to the coffee house. Short dress. She looks fine, dude.
God, she’s so smart. She is really good at this shit.
What’s her perfume? It smells amazing.
Did you know she paints her fingernails often? Today it’s pink.
The way she bites her bottom lip . . . dude.
She gave me a hug goodbye today. Her tits pressed against my chest **okay hand sign emoji**
Oh and she sways her ass when she walks away.
I could seriously kill him. It’s been like that for the past two weeks.
I know what she smells like, like fucking rain and sunshine. And I know she paints her nails. I’ve watched her do it wearing nothing but my shirt. And smart? Fuck, she’s the smartest girl I know, so clever and astute. It’s why I hired her. Not because of the emails or the flirting, but because she’s damn good at what she does, and I needed her on my team.
Now I need her in my life. A permanent fixture.
I miss everything about her. The way she tests my patience or brightens when I walk in the room, or the way she moans my name when I’m thrusting into her, never able to get enough.