Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 124(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 124(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
I decide to leave my bags in the car and hesitantly get out and make my way up his front steps. Nervous, I knock on his door lightly.
I’m about to knock again when the door swings open, and Ben is standing in front of me with a gun in his hand. I jump backwards and am about to fall off the small porch when his arm goes around my waist. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Lexi.”
I pull from his arms and point at the gun he’s now tucking into the waistband of his jeans. “What the hell, Ben?”
He’s agitated and runs his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry… it’s been a rough day.”
He tilts his head to the side, and that’s the first time I see the cut on his forehead. I rush to him. “Ben, what happened?”
He holds his hand up to stop me. “I’m fine,” he grunts.
“You’re not fine. You need stitches.”
He shakes his head. “Nah, Doc looked at it. It’s fine. He said it might need glued or something but—”
This time I don’t let him stop me. I lean in and go to my tiptoes to get a better look. “Hell no, you need stitches or the very least it needs closed up, Ben.”
He tries to wave my hand away. “I’m fine.”
I throw my hands up and stomp off the porch. I guess I can’t be mad about my brother Cruz filling up my car with every first aid item I could ever need. I find the red box, tuck it under my arm, and then march back up to the porch. “Inside.”
It’s obvious he doesn’t want to, but at least he listens to what I tell him. I follow behind him, and he sits down at the kitchen table. “I’m fine—” he starts, but I don’t let him get anything else out. “Really? You’re fine? Did you even clean it out?”
I get out the supplies and start cleaning out the cut. He hisses his breath. “Fuck, that hurts.”
“Are you going to tell me what happened?”
He won’t look at me. “I told you there are things I can’t talk to you about.”
I grip the ointment tube in my hand. “And this is one of those things?”
He nods his head.
I apply the ointment and then search in the box for butterfly Band-Aids. He holds his hand up. “You’re not putting that on me.”
I put a hand on my hip. “You have to or else it’s going to open up.” When he just stares at me, I plead with him. “Please?”
He holds his head down. “Fine.”
I work on applying the bandage, trying to pull the skin together as I do. Once I have it on, I start cleaning up the wrappers and close the box. I’m walking to throw away the trash when Ben drops the bombshell on me. “We should talk.”
I take my time walking back and sit down across from him. I set my hands on the table top and wait patiently. He scoots his chair back, putting distance between us, and my stomach turns to knots. This is not going to be good.
“I think we’re moving too fast.”
Besides a lift of my eyebrows, I remain still. “Okay.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “I shouldn’t have…”
He lets his voice trail off, and so I say what comes to mind. “What? You shouldn’t have fucked me twice last night and once this morning? Maybe you shouldn’t have come down my throat? Maybe you shouldn’t have claimed me in front of your whole club only to tell me the very next day that we’re moving too fast.”
He uncrosses his arms, reaches for me, and then lets his hands rest on the table in front of him. The only indication he’s not happy about this is when he fists his hands. “I fucked up.”
I wait for him to say something else, but his grim look tells me I’ll be waiting awhile. “Okay, fine. You fucked up? Can you tell me what’s going on because I’m sorry if I can’t keep up with your hot and cold.”
He leans forward. “Being with me puts you in danger.”
I sit up. “And?”
He lifts his shoulders in a big shrug and shakes his head. “And this isn’t going to work. We’re from two different worlds…”
I lean back and cross one leg over the other. “Just so I understand, you want me but after whatever happened today”—I gesture to his injured head—“you’re worried about me and think it’s not safe for us to be together.”
He just looks at me, so I point my finger to my chin like I’m thinking. “Oh, you want me to walk away and act like this never happened.”
He holds his hands together. “It’s for the best, princess.”
I try not to bristle. I stand up and walk straight out of his house. I should teach him a lesson, but instead, I grab the overnight bag out of my car and then go back to the house. He’s standing in the open doorway, and I wonder if he thought I was leaving and he was going to stop me. I don’t say a word; I go past him and toward the bedroom.