Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 53671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
“You know what I was thinking?” Sadie is far more cheerful now, and I know she’s going to come up with a huge pick me up that will help me sort through everything while she stays there beside me, being silently supportive.
“What’s that?”
“Taco night! We haven’t had a taco night in forever! I’ll pick everything up, come by tomorrow, and we’ll rock it. I’ll bring wine too.”
I mumble a quick okay, tell Sadie she’s the best, which I seriously do mean, and hang up fast. I put the phone down on the bed and slap a hand over my hammering heart. Of course, Sadie would come up with tacos. They’re my favorite, and they always work to cheer me up.
Right now, that just fits in perfectly with exactly how my life is going.
CHAPTER 16
Kayden
When a knock comes at lunch the next day, I’m half afraid to open it, thinking it might be more pizza I didn’t order again.
Instead, I find empty space. And a bag. A red gift bag with a suspicious-looking bow. Actually, the whole package is pretty sketchy.
I lift it, expecting to find it full of poop that spontaneously burst into flames right in my face, but there are two cards in the bag. I step back inside, shut the door, and open the first card. It’s a Christmas card with a sparkly reindeer, which is slightly confusing because it’s mid-summer. There’s a gift card for a taco joint taped inside while a punch card flutters to the floor. I pick it up and stare at it, slightly puzzled. There isn’t any writing inside, so I flip open the second card.
In scrawling writing, half handwriting, half printing, and messy because Rea never did care about taking enough time to be neat, is a message. I used to bug her about how her college notes were such a mess that they were barely legible. I can clearly read what she wrote here, though.
Kayden,
We are having a girls’ night at the house tonight. Wine and tacos. Imagine that. Sadie came up with it all on her own. Long story short, since you do not have the required anatomy, you are not invited. Please use the attached gift card to get your own tacos. The punch card is for a rec center close by. They have showers there. Don’t worry about paying me back. Uninterrupted girl time is worth the $32 I spent.
Rea
Just like that, I’m dismissed. I don’t know if I should read something into it or not, considering what happened with our taco night last night. I really should have had more control. However, I did have enough control to leave before things got out of hand, even though I really would have rather stayed. Sometimes adulting means making the hard choices, and sometimes caring about someone means making even harder ones.
I honestly have no idea what I’m doing. I feel like maybe I should go. Perhaps I should just leave Rea in peace. It was never the physical chemistry that was lacking between us. What happened last night is proof of that. When Rea said things just wouldn’t work, I never once thought it meant my anatomy and her anatomy. At least not those bits. I knew she was talking about other bits, like brains, hearts, and emotions.
Except those bits always seemed to work so well together too.
I have no idea if Rea is ever going to tell me what really happened. I’ve been asking her, and now I know for sure there’s something, but I can’t just force her to tell me. Maybe too much time has passed, and I should leave it alone. Perhaps coming here wasn’t the best thing for either of us. And maybe buying an entire company and forcing my presence on Rea just made her hate me more.
Last night didn’t feel like hate, but then again, there’s this whole thing called hate sex, which is a real thing, and just going by the hype around it, it must be good. Maybe Rea let me hate-lick her pussy. Hate-eat her out? Hate-taste her taco? It could be that she hate-wanted more after. She legitimately looked like she hated that I put the brakes on. Or maybe she was expecting more hate.
My brain feels heavy and twisty, and my chest feels just as thick and painful. I study both the cards. Did Rea deliver it on her lunch break? She could have just told me not to come over, that the door would be barred and I wasn’t welcome, and to take my rich ass somewhere else to get a shower and dinner, but she cared enough to actually tell me off right and proper. Or maybe she just cared, though that’s doubtful.
Or is it?
It all comes down to that question. What really happened eight years ago?