Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
“Fucked, Cass,” I say tightly. “Not like other people. I wear humor like a cloak of armor. I try to be funny, so that’s all people see, but underneath, this is me.” There’s no humor now. In the past, I’ve told people all sorts of stories. After years and years of therapy, I don’t mind being touched in good ways. I’ve even had a few very short relationships and more than a few that weren’t relationships over the years. Early on, I learned that women dig scars, especially if there’s a sob story behind them, and I hate to say that when I was younger and angrier, I made use of that. Now, I just make up shit, so a thousand and one questions don’t get immediately thrown my way.
But Cass? Something about her makes me want to tell her the truth, and I can see that she’s intrinsically kind and good. It’s not that I don’t want to soil her with it. It’s more like I don’t want to break her with it.
“How did…how did you get those scars?”
I shake my head, lower my shirt, and tug my sleeve down. This wasn’t such a good idea if I didn’t plan on following up with an explanation. Honestly, I wasn’t really planning or thinking. I just did it. “Not tonight. I don’t want to wreck what we did, what you did. Whenever you start thinking about luck, think about this. You tell the universe to fuck itself the same way you told me off. You show it your middle finger. You’re strong, Cass. And brave. No, not just brave. You’re fearless. You’re powerful. You can set your own path. Just remember that. And keep that bird flying when anyone tells you differently. Anyone. You hear me?”
“Lennox, I—”
“It’s not your fault. And I’m good. Been dealing with getting over this for a long time.”
“I want you to tell me. If you’re…if you can. Please don’t make me leave and then disappear yourself. If I never saw you again….” Her voice, all cut up and throaty, wrecks me a little. A little more than I already am. Her eyes sparkle with tears, and she swallows hard. “It’s not pity.” She dashes the tears away. “I’m just sad because…fuck. No, I’m not sad. I mean, I am, but I’m fucking angry too!”
I shrug. “Don’t be. As I said, whatever’s coming? It’s what we decide for ourselves.”
“Are you…are you going to disappear?” Her voice wobbles and shudders.
I shake my head slowly. “Granny wants me to stay. Plus, I have the pawnshop. And Ransom, Ayana, and Maya.”
Those cerulean blues darken a shade. “Those are the only reasons?”
I could be a total asshole and ensure Cass wouldn’t seek me out again, or I could do the one thing I told myself I wouldn’t do because I wasn’t looking for any sort of connection. Basically, the said connection has gobsmacked me hard in the face, and there’s no backing down now.
“No.”
Her throat works. I want to put my hand there and feel her swallow, trace the veins running there in the alabaster column, and feel her pulse beating under my fingertips. I want to put my lips there and kiss her life force. Kiss her until she’s moaning and melting against me. Until her hips are banging against mine and—
“Okay,” she whispers. “Have a good night, Lennox.”
I step back, allowing her to let herself out, and she does. I have no idea how she got here. Did she walk? Take a cab? She obviously didn’t drive because she doesn’t have a license yet. It’s dark. This neighborhood is a good one, but still.
I wrench open the door and stumble out onto the porch—that’s right, stumble. Because try walking with a hard-on this hard. I searched the street for Cass, but wherever she went, she was already gone. Unfortunately, I can’t just leave right away to go after her to make sure she’s safe because Maya is inside, sleeping.
Turning around, I very reluctantly reenter the house and close the door.
It takes me all of two seconds to get enough blood flow back to my brain to figure out what my next move is going to be. I have mad skills, duh, so I can make sure Cass gets home okay, even if it means tipping my hand just a little. Whatever. It will be more than worth it.
I’m going to put my hacking skills to good use to get her number, or maybe I’ll just look it up. But it’s probably unlisted, so yeah, back to the hacking. And then, I’ll say Ayana wrote it on the fridge for me as a secondary emergency contact. No tipping of the hand will be necessary for that.
What a wild fucking night.
What a wild fucking life.
We make our destiny. I firmly believe that. The crazy thing? I think I’m charging headlong into mine, and it happens to have sandy hair and sea-blue eyes.