Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 74022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“How are you, Penny?” I ask her, smiling. Hoping she’s not upset because I’m here.
She told me it was okay.
If it’s not, I really wish she would just say so.
“I’m good, how are you, Chan?”
“Good, do you want to sit and have a drink with us?”
She glances at Boston, and I swear I can feel some sort of moment between them, something warm almost flashes around when they make eye contact. It makes me uncomfortable, and it makes me wonder if Saskia is right, maybe I am stepping on toes here. But, if he’s interested in Penny, then why in the hell does he keep chasing me? Is it just sex? Is that all this is?
That kind of hurts.
“No, I have to get Cassie’s things ready, but thank you. How have you been?”
“Good.” I smile at her. “Just working.”
“Same here.” She laughs softly. “Never ending.”
“No doubt.”
“Well, I’ll leave you two to it, I’ll chat to you soon, Chantelle.”
I wave to her and turn back to Boston. He is watching her go, his expression concerned. Suddenly, I feel like an outsider, like I just shouldn’t be here. I try to make light conversation, but he’s distracted. I can tell he’s distracted. He tells me he’s going to get more beers and disappears inside. My chest hurts, it aches because I feel ridiculous. I’m not sure why. He invited me here, but am I right, was it just for sex?
I like sex as much as the next girl.
But I don’t like being used for it.
I wait for over half an hour, and when Boston doesn’t return, I pull on my shorts and tank, and then walk inside. When I reach the kitchen, I can hear soft voices talking. I step around the corner and see Boston and Penny, deep in conversation. She’s crying, which instantly makes me feel bad. He knew something was wrong with her, I can’t be angry at him for coming to see if she’s okay.
“Here for you, Penny,” he says, his voice soft and warm. I haven’t heard that voice on him before. It’s so gentle. My heart aches. “You gotta tell me when shit goes down.”
“It isn’t your problem, Boston,” she sobs, swiping at her eyes. “I can’t drag you into it.”
“You’re my problem, because I don’t like seein’ you hurt.”
Ouch.
I clear my throat and both of them look at me.
“Are you okay, Penny?” I ask, my voice concerned because I am concerned.
“She’s fine,” Boston says, his voice dismissive. “I’ll see you later.”
He’s asking me to leave.
It feels like I’ve been sucker punched in the chest, but I hold my head high, nod, and walk out.
I clench my fists the whole way to the car.
I won’t be used.
Not even by someone like Boston.
He doesn’t have to give me more than what he’s giving me, but at the very least, the friendship we share deserves some respect.
He just dismissed me like I was a one-night stand he found on the street.
That shit doesn’t fly with me.
~*~*~*~
CHANTELLE
I’m weak.
There is no other way to put it.
I managed to ignore Boston for a few days, which was okay because I was working, but when I finally answered, he asked to see me. I stupidly agreed, and he would only see me at my house. When he came over, we had a chat that ended in sex—amazing, mind-blowing sex—and then he left. Again.
And I got frustrated with myself.
Stupidly frustrated.
Because I shouldn’t have let him come over. Especially when he wouldn’t let me go back to his house, and would only opt for coming here. That’s a booty call if I’ve ever seen one. This time, I promised myself I was done. I’m nobody’s sex toy, especially not a biker’s. I should have told him I was hurt he kicked me out the other day, but instead I let him in and got carried away with his hands, and his body, and that damned mouth.
Not this time.
My hurt is growing, my confusion is growing, but mostly my feelings are growing. Heavily.
I care about him more than I should, which is why I have made the decision to stop this. Once and for all, I have to stop it. Or I’m going to get hurt. Saskia was right about that; if I don’t step back, it’ll turn into some twisted love triangle, and there can only be one ending for that, and it’s either Penny or me having our heart broken, which is just not going to work.
So, here I am, sitting on my sofa at seven at night, drinking a vodka on the rocks and feeling sorry for myself. Boston has called six times in the last two hours. I flat-out refuse to answer now. I have nothing to say, nothing that’s going to help either of us. He only wants to come over for sex, and I’m not down for that.