Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 163475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
“Do you want to sleep in my bed?” he asks. “It’s way more comfortable.”
“No.” I drop my bag on the dresser. “The floor is great, thank you.”
“Do you want to watch a movie?”
“Yeah, okay.” I smile, because I already know I won’t be watching the movie. I’ll be lying on the floor, daydreaming about my Mr. Garcia.
I wish tonight was next time.
I sit in a cafe and smile as I read through the Saturday morning paper.
Today’s the day.
After my little slumber party last night on the floor, I’m determined to find a new apartment. I don’t care where or what it is, as long as it’s half decent, I’m taking it.
I circle another one to look at.
“Here you go.” The waitress arrives with my pancakes.
“Thank you.” I fold my paper in half and put it on the bench seat beside me. I sip my coffee and begin to eat my blueberry pancakes. Yum, these are good. I take a big bite and then glance down at my folded newspaper.
I frown when I see Sebastian.
I quickly open the paper and read the headline on the back. It’s the social page.
Highflyers for Charity
There’s a picture of him and two men, and they each have a beautiful woman on their arm.
I read the note beside the picture: Julian and Brielle Masters, Spencer and Charlotte Jones, and Sebastian Garcia with partner Gabriella Beckman attending the Governor’s Charity Ball in London.
I quickly read the article. The ball took place last night, meaning he spent Thursday night with me, took me a million times, and then he spent Friday night with her.
Did he have her a million times, too?
My heart constricts with disappointment.
Asshole.
6
April
I sit back in my chair, wow.
A smile crosses my face, and here I was thinking that he was damaged in some way.
Sebastian isn’t damaged. He was just feeling guilty. I give a subtle shake with my head, I don’t know why I’m even surprised.
Actually, who am I kidding? I’m not surprised. I expect men to be a letdown. They always are.
I thought we had a connection, a little voice whispers from deep in my heart.
I fold the paper back in half and put it down with a heavy exhale.
My thoughts drift to the morning when we woke up and how he was with me. At the time, I did feel it was out of character for him to be so sweet, but I liked it, so I didn’t let my mind explore why. I can still hear his sexy, deep voice when he told me he was leaving, and he asked if I was okay. When he told me that he’d had an incredible night.
I roll my eyes. No wonder he was being all wonderful and caring, calling me babe and shit. Did he feel guilty then because he was going home to her? Is that why he was being nice? Or was he being so nice because he knew I was being a fucking idiot for him?
God.
I’m not his babe.
Screw him, and screw the lot of them.
With a shaky hand, I sip my coffee. I have no idea why I thought he was different.
Because he is, that pathetic bitch who lives in my heart argues.
I go over the cold hard facts—the ones I can’t deny.
I met him in a brothel, and deep down, I already knew who he was.
“Can I get you anything?” the waiter asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“No, I’m good. Great, actually.” I smile up at him.
“Let me know if you want another coffee,” he smiles.
“Sure thing.”
I watch him walk away, and I lift the drink to my lips with a sad smile.
You know you’re fucked up when you’re secretly relieved when a man shows his true colors. Call it what you will—an alarm bell, a sixth sense, or the universe looking out for me—but I know it’s just a little reminder of what it feels like to be hurt by someone you love.
And a warning to never go there again.
“Hmm, I’m going to have that, too.” I smile as I hand over my menu.
“So, anyway,” Lara continues. “Now I’m going to get a bad mark, all because this stupid witch couldn’t be bothered to do her half of the assignment.”
“That sucks,” Brandon sighs. “I hate group assignments.”
“It’s never fair,” I add. “One person always ends up doing all the work.”
“You need to tell someone,” Brandon says.
“You really do.” I sip my wine.
It’s Saturday night, and as usual, I’m out for dinner with Lara and Brandon.
My phone vibrates across the table, and I turn it over to see the name Porsha lighting up the screen.
Shit, she’s found out about Sebastian swapping last week.
She is going to fire me. Oh well… it’s not like I want to go back, anyway.
“I’ve just got to take this,” I say as I stand. “Back in a minute.” I rush toward the exit door and answer the phone. “Hello.”