Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
“He will.”
“We’ll see.”
She gives me a sly, sultry smile that nearly stops my heart. “In the meantime, how about we go and burn off some of the energy this amazing breakfast has given us?”
I laugh. “I love the way you think.”
8
CASSIE
After a few days of working in the bar, I’m starting to get the hang of things. Cash is out running errands today, so I’m hustling around the bar getting an early jump on setting up for the evening crowd. And the whole time, I can’t stop thinking about the time I’ve been spending with Cash. The memories of our nights together bring a smile to my face, not to mention an uncomfortable dampness to my panties. Everything with him has been so natural from the start. It’s all been so easy with him. Maybe that should worry me since little in this life is ever really that easy, but for whatever reason, it doesn’t. It just seems… right.
Despite the age difference between us, Cash and I connected on levels I didn’t even know I had. I worried about that in the beginning, I’m not going to lie. But aside from being incredibly sexually compatible, we are compatible in so many other ways. We’ve got a lot in common, share a lot of the same interests, not to mention values and beliefs. I honestly never thought I could connect with another human being in all the different ways Cash and I have.
As incredible as things between us are going, I know there’s a Zane-shaped shadow looming over it all. Cash does a good job of hiding it and not letting it affect us, but the situation with Zane continues to haunt him. I mean, how couldn’t it? He’s his son. I honestly can’t imagine how much he must be hurting right now. I imagine any parent in his situation would be. But the question is, what can be done about it?
Cash is hesitant to approach Zane, not wanting to push him further away. And of course, Zane is being Zane—petulant, pouty, and childish. Honestly, I don’t know what I ever saw in him to begin with. When we first started talking, he was just… different. He seemed kind. Considerate. Thoughtful. I thought we shared similar interests and values. He genuinely seemed like a good guy. It all changed once I got out here.
We actually have very little in common. We don’t share much in the way of interests and hobbies like he led me to believe. And his constant pressure for sex was a complete one-eighty from the guy I’d originally been talking to. The guy who said he understood wanting to wait until it felt right. He never tried to force himself on me or anything like that, and he never hit me—which is why his actions the other day were so surprising—but he acted like I owed him sex. In the short time I lived with him, Zane became somebody I didn’t know. He became a monster.
But my issues with Zane shouldn’t impact Cash’s relationship with his son. And Zane shouldn’t be such an idiot to let what happened between us come between him and his dad. Especially when what he’s so upset about doesn’t bear any resemblance to reality. He’s pissed about something that didn’t happen. I know Cash doesn’t think this is my fault—and I know it’s not—but I still can’t help but feel that I bear some bit of responsibility for it. It’s irrational and maybe silly, but I can’t stop thinking about it.
As I finish setting up the bar, I try to shut my mind down. Try to focus on something—anything—else. The whole situation is depressing me. But as my brain keeps circling around the situation, a thought occurs to me. That thought then gives me an idea that, although it makes me nervous, seems like the right thing to do. It might be the only thing that I can do to help bridge this divide between father and son.
“What the fuck do you want?” Zane asks.
“We need to talk.”
“We have nothing to say to each other.”
He stands in the doorway of his apartment, his face stony as he glares at me. My stomach is fluttering as hard as my heart and my throat is dry. I try to swallow down my fear. Confrontation has never been my strong suit, and I’ve always tried to avoid it whenever possible. But this is something I have to do.
“You might not have anything to say, but I do. So, you can listen,” I tell him. “Now, are you going to let me in?”
Zane stares at me for a minute then sighs dramatically and opens the door, letting me into his apartment. I walk into the living room and fold my arms over my chest as I glance around. It’s clear that Zane has spent the last week or so in the bottom of a bottle. Empty pizza boxes, Chinese food containers, and empty beer bottles and cans litter the coffee table, with the debris overflowing onto the ground around the couch. The air is stale and musty, and looking at him, I’d say that he hasn’t bathed in a few days. At least.