Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 233(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 233(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
Stupidly, I thought maybe the need might lessen. I thought the roaring chorus telling me to claim her might quiet down. It’s the opposite. I want her more. I’ll fight for her harder.
If she wasn’t Alex’s sister….
There it is again, the same sentence repeated endlessly. I can’t make it, so she’s not his sister.
So I have to accept it. There’s nothing to be done.
“How’s Tiffany?” I ask, changing the subject.
We walk toward our cars, Alex regaling me with stories from his married life. His happiness bursts out of him. It almost makes me smile along with him, giddy and carefree, but then selfish darkness touches me.
I’ll never have that. To have it, I’d have to ruin part of his happiness.
“You’re going to hate me for asking this,” Alex says, grinning in a bantering way. “But we’re having dinner at the house. Not a huge get-together. A few friends, the family. I want you to come.”
“Family dinners….”
“Aren’t your thing. I know, and that’s the point. If you’ve decided you want to be a lonely old bachelor, at least I can make sure you get a warm meal from time to time.”
Like he always does, he's teasing with that friendly note in his voice. It’s the way Alex and I often talk to each other since we know that, deep down, we always have each other’s back. We’d never do anything to seriously hurt the other person.
We’d never betray the other.
“I’m not sure,” I say.
Fate or destiny or something threw Becca and me together before. If I was a more sentimental man, I’d fully believe there’s a force trying to bring us even closer.
The last time she was in the city, she was a magnet, and I was metal, drawn to her, unable to stop.
There’s a difference between that and willfully searching for her.
“What’d you say?” Alex asks.
I look over his shoulder at the light traffic, the lights passing. The stars and the moon stare down impassively. I feel the weight of this decision, as though I know it’s going to lead to other things, as though I know it might hurt this man.
I don’t want to hurt him.
“Think of it as a favor,” Alex says. “Otherwise, I know you’ll spend the next ten years drawing up more and more business plans. You have to live once in a while.”
I swallow, nodding. He’s right. Our business has expanded massively lately, both the gyms and our real estate ventures. It’s a lot of work, and I could and should delegate some of it and hire an assistant to free up my time.
But that’s the thing. I don’t need time.
Time lets me think about Becca and fantasize about her every little detail.
“Sure,” I say, even if I know better. “As long as it stops you from pouting at me.”
Alex chuckles, holding his hands up. “It’ll be a no-pouting zone. You have my word.”
Once he’s gone, I turn toward my car, but then I keep walking. I walk past my car and then break into a jog, run, and sprint. I’m sprinting through the streets, the wind rushing at my face, stinging my cheeks.
I duck my head and run even harder, my legs aching, my fists clenched.
And then my cell phone starts to ring.
I stop, realizing I’ve been running for longer than I thought. I’m near the pond; the evening air is cool.
My chest rises and falls, and my heart begins to hammer. It’s like I thought I could outrun my thoughts. But it didn’t work.
I see Becca in the mist over the water, her face forming, tempting.
The number is unknown.
“Hello?” I say, answering.
“Ben.”
My hand tightens around the phone.
Becca’s voice is so much sweeter than I could’ve imagined. It’s like the past month has disappeared. It no longer matters. We are back in the hallway again when we kissed before she ran, and the elevator doors closed her away from me.
“Becca,” I whisper.
She seems to take a moment to compose herself, then says, “We need to talk.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Becca
I stand at the window of the hotel, looking out at the street below. Dad didn’t want to get an Air BnB. He said he didn’t want anywhere homey, not until he’d chosen somewhere to set up permanently.
“Plus,” he added, tapping the side of his nose, “the company’s paying.”
The evening is cool and crisp. The stars stare down, and I wonder where Ben is; as his voice sets my veins to burning, the thought of him makes my body tingle.
I refocus my eyes, studying my expression in the glass. It’s taken a lot for me to work up to this point, formulate this plan, and build up my resolve.
It’s simple. Ben is never going to want what I want.
Maybe he wants a fling, some quick sex, some dangerous fun.
But all the love, joy, happiness, and the future, the life? He doesn’t want that. He can’t, not so quickly. And even if he did – which he won’t, ever – there’s no way we can act on this.