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)
“Very good. We just went for our daily afternoon walk.”
“Checkin’ out men again,” Boston murmurs as he walks past.
“Well, big brother, a girl has to look.”
“And look she should.” Malakai grins, stopping in front of Cassie and me. “Evening, ladies.”
God. He’s so handsome. No wonder Amalie can’t get enough of him.
“Hey, Malakai,” we both say at the same time, sounding far too girlish for my liking.
“Ladies,” Koda murmurs, walking past. “Lookin’ good.”
Sigh.
The men go and stand in the kitchen, pulling out a beer. They’re talking closely about something, no doubt everything that’s been going on. So, I take the opportunity to sit with Amalie. I push Cassie’s chair over beside the sofa and then sit down. Amalie sits beside me.
“How have you been?” she asks me, smiling, her eyes lightning up when she does.
“Awesome. Busy, but good.”
Cassie rolls her eyes. “She’s a liar.”
I give Cassie a look, and she grins. She’s lucky I like her so damned much.
“Oh, really?” Amalie probes, giving me a look that says she needs to know more. “Are you going to share or do I need to push it out of you?”
“There’s not much to share, a difficult ex-husband ...”
“And a brother she can’t keep her eyes off ...” Cassie laughs.
I got red and whisper-yell, “Cassie! Stop it.”
“Oh, do share,” Amalie smiles, crossing her legs. “Start with the ex-husband, and then we’ll move to the juicy Boston stuff.”
“There is no juicy Boston stuff, we’re just friends,” I protest. “He’s into Chantelle ...”
Amalie’s brows go up. “Chan? Really? Since when?”
“They’ve been talking a lot since the night we went out, and I’m totally okay with it. Chantelle is a super awesome chick.”
“Wrong,” Cassie says, wiggling her finger. “Not about Chantelle being super awesome, I hear she’s great, but about them seeing each other. I heard him on the phone trying to get hold of her the other night. He went out, came back all pissed and broody muttering about women. My guess, she’s stopped whatever it was they had going.”
She did?
I hope not. Because if she did, it’s because he basically dismissed her the other day when she was here swimming with him. I felt terrible for her, because she is a great girl and didn’t do anything wrong. When she came in to ask if I was okay, he basically threw her out. I didn’t even get the chance to say anything, or protest at his rudeness. I felt bad for her. I saw the look on her face.
It doesn’t take a genius to realize she cares about him.
It also doesn’t take much to know they’re sleeping together.
How he treated her sucked, and I told him that, but he wasn’t interested in hearing it that night.
I don’t blame her if she gave him the flick.
“Either way,” I point out, “I’m not getting involved. It’s already messy enough. Chantelle cares about him, that would be unfair of me to roll in.”
“To be fair,” Cassie adds, “you were getting close to him first.”
“But,” Amalie points out, her voice soft, “you did tell Chantelle that night you weren’t interested.”
“Exactly!” I say, clapping my hands. “End of discussion.”
“Why did you say that?” Cassie gasps.
“Because I’m not interested, Cassie. We’re great friends, but that’s it.”
“Snort,” Cassie says out loud, then rolls her eyes. “Anyone with a set of eyes can see there is more to it. I just don’t understand why you’d practically throw another woman onto him.”
I exhale and look to Amalie for help. She shrugs. “If you like him, you like him. If there’s something there, there’s something there. But I think you all need to be clear with each other, or this situation is going to go south really fast.”
Amalie.
Always the voice of reason.
But I’m tired of talking about Boston. My mind is already a mess about it all. Confusion is real. I’m not entirely sure what is making me feel so confused, but I do know that when I saw Chantelle with him the other day, my heart ached, a pang of jealousy, if I’m being honest. And I don’t want to get involved in that. I’m sure she doesn’t, either. So I just have to pull back for a bit, let it all settle down.
Boston and I would never work anyway.
Right?
I glance over at him, and he’s watching me, those eyes intense. My heart races, and I hate that just staring at him has that effect on me. He’s so incredibly beautiful, and sometimes the urge to just run to him, grab his face and kiss him until we both can’t breathe is so intense I have to walk away because I don’t trust myself.
He gets to me.
But I also just feel really close to him. And safe.
I smile softly, and he smiles back, small, but there. Boston never really smiles big, but he doesn’t need to, his eyes almost speak everything he doesn’t.