Murphy’s Law Read online Riley Hart (Havenwood #2)

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Havenwood Series by Riley Hart
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Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
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I watched him as he held the bottle to his lips, sucking the whole thing down in drink after drink. I wanted him to claim me, wanted to claim him, wanted to pretend this night hadn’t happened and we were sitting at home on the couch, watching TV with Bear.

“So how’s the house coming along?” Knox asked Remy, obviously feeling the tension between us. It was how I felt before, toward the end, and I didn’t know why it had reared its head so suddenly and brutally tonight.

“Not bad. I haven’t worked on it in a bit. Law and I have been busy.”

I cocked a brow at him, surprised by that little show of possession. He was trying to emphasize that we spent a lot of time together, but I didn’t think anyone would notice it but me.

Knox kept the conversation going with Remy, asking him about the house and the land, and hell, random shit I was sure he was pulling out of his ass.

“Do you wanna play a game of pool with me?” Josh asked Cynthia, and I silently thanked him, but she declined.

“Nah, it’s okay.” She wrapped her arm around my shoulder. “I miss hanging out with you.”

“Hey…Cynthia. I’m…” I tried to step out from under her arm, tried to tell her that I was seeing someone, but then I glanced at Remy and…fuck, there was so much pain there. Like he was broken, looking at me like I was something he couldn’t have, like he felt I deserved better when all I ever wanted was him.

“You look really familiar for some reason,” Becca said.

Remy’s arm jerked, accidentally hitting a beer bottle and knocking it to the floor. Glass shattered, and I could see his breathing pick up, see the beginning of panic taking him over.

“I’m sorry. Shit. I’m sorry,” he said.

“No worries. We got this,” Knox said as Griff stepped around the bar. I moved closer to Remy, reached for him, but he shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” he said again and walked away, pushed through the crowd and toward the door.

I pulled away from Cynthia and caught Chase’s gaze. He nodded. “Go on. We got this,” and then it was me working my way through the crowd and going after Remy.

I pulled in a lungful of air when I got outside. I didn’t see him, so I jogged to the truck, but he wasn’t there either. I went along the side of the bar and to the back, where there was a small alley, then buildings on the other side.

Remy was there, pacing, tugging at his hair and sucking in deep, quick breaths.

“Rem…hey, Rem. It’s okay. We’re okay.”

He rested against the back of Griff’s, leaned over with his hands on his knees. “Why the fuck am I like this? Christ, I hate being like this.”

He was breathing even heavier now. Shaking, he slid down the wall and sat. I knelt in front of him, ran my hands through his hair, cupped his face, shushed him. “We’re good, you and me, okay? You’re okay, Rem. I’m here. Just breathe.” I had no idea if I was doing the right thing. I kept talking to him, reassuring him, touching him.

He didn’t speak anymore, just closed his eyes and tried to settle down. When he opened them again, he said, “It’s like the first night we met,” and damned if those words didn’t make my heart simultaneously swell and break.

“There you are.” I smiled, and he nuzzled my hand, but really, I was scared. Worried that what I was doing was wrong. That maybe him going public right now wasn’t the right thing to do. That somehow, being with me made things worse. “Was it Cynthia? She doesn’t know about us, so it’s not her fault she was flirting with me. It’s you I want.”

“It’s everything,” he said, a sharpness to his voice. “I know you love me, but anxiety doesn’t care. Logic doesn’t matter to my thoughts sometimes. It was being there and worrying about being there, then hating myself for worrying about being there. That you wanted to stay in tonight because of my shit, and I feel like I hold you back. Fear of being recognized, and then more anger at myself for feeling that way too. Worry that someone will look at me and know that I’m so crazy in love with you, and it fucking hurts to let you down, and it hurts not to tell the world you’re mine, and then, yeah, even more fury at myself because there’s no one to blame but me. Then there’s Steve’s disappointment because of my issues, and my mom being sick, and Leslie taking advantage of me, and knowing she’s hurting about something she’ll never share. It’s fucking everything. I hate this. I hate the shit that goes on in my head.”


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