Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “You both need to be humbled,” he said, making my stomach curl. “You,” he said, looking between both of us, “now pass all your moves through Rico. He doesn’t like it, you don’t do it. Case fucking closed.”
It was a demotion in everything but title.
And he had every right to make that decision.
“Okay,” Cinna said, face tight.
“Six months,” Renzo added, softening just a little. “Six months of answering to Rico for all your moves. All good then, shit can go back to normal.”
“We can do that,” I said.
“About that,” Renzo said.
“About what?” Cinna asked.
“You. As a plural,” he said. “Officially, as your boss, I don’t give a fuck who you date or fuck or marry,” he said. “As your friend, fucking happy for you,” he said. “Now, I haven’t seen my woman all night. So I’m going home to her. Keep your fucking asses out of trouble for a while.”
With that, he was gone, and the door slamming had Joel waking up.
“That coffee smells weak,” he said in lieu of a good morning to us as he climbed off of the couch, and made his way over.
“It is,” Cinna grumbled, wrinkling her nose.
“So… is he staying too?” Joel asked, looking over at Lip.
“We can’t make him go back on the street,” Cinna said.
“You’re gonna need another couch,” he said, seeming totally fine with another new addition.
She was going to need a bigger apartment.
Preferably one with me.
But she was going to have to come to that conclusion on her own.
I would just be there with her when she did.
Cinna - 6 weeks
“Do you see it now?” Joel asked, pointing toward the paused TV where Spike was giving Buffy the moon eyes he’d claimed weeks ago that Dav had been giving me.
“I see Spike looking at Buffy like that, yeah,” I agreed.
“I say this with love,” Lip piped in. “But you can’t be that blind, right?” he asked, shaking his head at me. “That’s the exact look Dav always has when he looks at you.”
“Maybe,” I agreed, my gaze sliding to my phone for the umpteenth time since Dav walked out of the door eight and a half hours ago.
But I wasn’t keeping track or anything.
Work had been relatively tame for us for the past few weeks. Which meant that we hadn’t really spent that much time apart.
We’d been holed up in my apartment almost nonstop since the kidnapping, just letting ourselves enjoy each other. And spend time with the boys.
I was thankful for them right then, even if their obsessive need for me to admit that Dav was in love with me was getting just a little bit old.
Mainly because I knew how badly I wanted that to be true. But how scary that reality would be at the same time.
“She’s hopeless,” Joel declared, hitting the play button, so we could get lost in the fantasy world of Sunnydale for another whole season.
With no sign or word from Dav.
Eventually, I peeled myself off of the couch where Joel was already fast asleep and walked into the bedroom. Where I did not keep checking my phone. Like some pathetic, lovesick teenager.
Oh a sigh, I dropped onto the foot of the bed.
Finally unable to pretend for another moment that wasn’t exactly what I was.
Pathetic.
Love sick.
God, I loved him.
There was no other explanation for the whole swooping and soaring sensation in my chest when he was near, the way my stomach did somersaults when he laughed or reached for me.
For the way I couldn’t stop thinking about him even when he was lying beside me.
I loved him.
Damnit.
“What are you growling about?” Dav asked, making me jerk and straighten, too caught up in my confusing feelings to even hear him come in.
“You,” I admitted, gaze sliding over him, looking for any injuries, but finding none.
“What are you growling about me for?” he asked, shooting me a bewildered smile as he started to peel off his shirt.
“Because I love you, you jackass,” I blurted out, making his brows rise before his eyes went all gooey.
“Yeah?” he asked, coming toward me.
“Yes. I’m not exactly happy about it,” I told him, getting a little chuckle out of him as he dropped to a squat in front of me.
“No?” he asked, shooting me a soft smile. “‘Cause I’m fucking thrilled about it,” he told me, reaching out to grab my knees, giving them a squeeze. “I think I’ve been a little bit in love with you since I first laid eyes on you.”
To that, I snorted.
“You just liked my tits.”
“I mean…” he said, gaze sliding to my chest. “They’re definitely a part of it,” he admitted, making my lips curve up. “But it’s not just your looks, though we both know those are fucking killer. It’s your strength and independence and your annoying inability to ask for help. It’s that gooey heart of yours, and the way I’m the only one who knows about it.”