Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 69371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
“I was going to get married three days ago!” I shout at them. “Now I have this naked man answering my door.”
“So what?” Shelby says. “What difference does that make who answers your door? You don’t have to answer to anyone.”
“So what?” My voice goes louder and louder. “So what? My neighbors could have seen him. I’m already the topic at the deli counter. You really think I wanted to add to it?”
“I think that you shouldn’t give a shit what anyone thinks,” Presley declares, getting up. “But that is just me. Did you discuss this with Luke?”
“No,” I say, my voice going soft. “He stormed out.”
“Oh, shit,” Shelby says. “You know what this means, don’t you?” She gets up, leaving me hanging. “You have to go and apologize.”
“For what?” I throw my hands in the air.
“For being a dickhead,” Presley points out, shaking her head and walking out. “I did not expect this from you.”
“Yeah.” Shelby nods. “She expected it more from me since I’m anal about everything, but you…”
“I was not being a dickhead,” I say in defense.
“You were being an asshole, then.” Shelby tries to find another word. “Put yourself in his shoes.”
“I don’t want to.” I pout, the stubborn side coming out.
“What would you say if you were at his house and his ex-whatever came to the door, and you answered it, and then he got mad at you.” I open my mouth to say something and then close it.
“Can you two get out of my office?” I point at the door, and they both laugh.
“Are we not discussing that you had sex with him on your would-be wedding night?” Shelby asks, not sure if she should walk out or not. “Were you drunk?”
“No,” I admit to her. “I mean, I drank a bit, but I wasn’t drunk.”
“Let me know how it tastes!” Presley shouts from the hallway, and I just walk over and stick my head out.
“How what tastes?” I look at her, confused.
“When you eat crow.” She laughs and starts to walk away from me.
“I hate her,” I mumble to Shelby, who is rolling her lips to keep from laughing. “And you, too, get the fuck out.”
“Gladly,” she agrees, walking over to the door. “Just for tomorrow, will we be having another meeting to tell you how wrong you are or is, like, this the last time?” I flip her the bird. “So tomorrow it is.”
I walk over to the door and slam it after them, and I can hear laughing when the intercom goes off. “Was that what it sounded like when he left?” Presley’s voice fills my office.
I don’t answer her. Instead, my head just hits the desk. “Holy shit,” I mumble. “They might just be right.”
“We are right.” Shelby’s voice fills my office now. “I suggest luring him with sex.” I close my eyes, praying that they just stop talking right now. I spend the whole day looking out my window and wondering how the fuck I’m going to handle this.
Chapter 23
Luke
I park my truck in the driveway, getting out and slamming the door behind me. The sun is just going down as I jog up the two steps to the front door. Unlocking the door, I grab the mail lying on the doormat before walking in and kick the door shut with my foot, tossing my keys and phone onto the table by the front door. I don’t turn on any lights as I make my way from the entryway past the kitchen and finally to the back room where my bedroom is.
I kick off my shoes before reaching behind me to pull my T-shirt off as I start the shower. I’ve been in a bad mood since I walked out of Clarabella’s this morning. I mean, I didn’t exactly walk out. It’s more like I stomped out like a child, even slamming the door behind me. I knew the minute I got behind my wheel and took off that I made a mistake. I should have discussed it with her. I should have relaxed for a minute. But the thought that she didn’t want to be seen with me just hit home in more ways than one, and I just couldn’t escape it.
When I pulled up to the restaurant, Mikaela was there having coffee, and the day just turned shittier and shittier as the hours went by. I want to say that it was everyone else who was the problem, but it was all me. And it didn’t get any better because I kept checking my phone, wondering if she was going to text me or call me, but it was radio silence. There was no missed call, no text, no nothing, and it just ate away at me.
The shower doesn’t even help, and when I walk into the kitchen twenty minutes later, I’m wearing just gym shorts. I turn on the television, putting it on SportsCenter before walking to the kitchen and pulling open the fridge. “Fuck,” I hiss when I find it empty. I’m about to walk over to the phone and order something when I hear a soft knock on the door. I look over at the door, not sure if it was actually a knock, when I hear it again. I don’t even bother checking to see who it is before I swing open the door, and my heart stops in my chest. Or maybe it starts, but whatever it is, I feel a sense of calmness run through me as she stands there wearing a black outfit.