Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
And I want to bite it.
I do.
How come I didn’t get to bite his ass last night? How come he’s keeping himself away from me like this?
Once he’s put his pants on, he turns and commands, “Let’s go.”
I keep my fingers fisted around the blanket and my heels digging into the mattress. “Where were you?”
His chest moves with a large breath as he repeats, much closer this time, “Let’s go.”
I jump out of bed then, my heart racing. “I texted you. But you never got back to me.”
Another breath, but this time it’s accompanied by his gaze flicking up and down my body. Very quickly and almost impassively. “I was busy.”
I take a step toward him. “With what?”
He doesn’t like my question as evidenced by his sharp exhale. “Can you just put some clothes on so we can go? I’d like to get some sleep tonight.”
“No,” I state.
This he definitely does not like because his sharp exhales are followed by a muscle on his cheek jumping. “No?”
“No, I won’t put any clothes on.”
“You—”
“Because I already have clothes on.” I wave my hand down my body. “Your coat.”
“That’s—”
“So if you’re so eager to make me leave, you’re going to have to drag me out of here, kicking and screaming, wearing just your coat and nothing else underneath,” I declare.
He looks down at me and I realize I started this conversation when I was by the side of the bed, but I’m finishing it only a few feet away from him. Meaning, I’ve been walking toward him all this time and somehow I have no recollection of it.
Somehow my body already knew what to do, my legs already knew what direction to walk in.
His.
And now that I’m here, it’s harder to maintain this minuscule of a distance.
It feels cruel that I don’t get to touch him when I’m so close to him.
“And what about him?” he asks, his voice growly.
“What about who?”
“Your fucking fiancé.”
Oh, right.
I have a fiancé.
Still.
I didn’t get to talk to Shepard either today. Even though we spent all four hours sitting side by side—me pretending to be busy with reading for my drama class and him playing games on his phone—I never brought up the subject of our engagement. I mean, I wasn’t going to bring it up with the entire soccer team present, including the coaches. Including him.
And when we reached the hotel, he disappeared as well. I take full responsibility for the fact that I was busier trying to track down the love of my life than my fiancé, though.
Guilt sits heavy in my stomach, but for now, I’m going to ignore it and focus on this asshole in front of me. Who’s not really an asshole but likes to act like one sometimes.
“How do you think he’s going to feel if I drag you out of here, kicking and screaming, wearing only my coat?”
“My fiancé is your twin brother. So maybe, just maybe,” I say, looking up at him, “you could answer my questions instead of fighting with me. And we could avoid this whole hallway drama and be respectful to him.”
He advances on me then, his eyes narrowed, flashing with threatening things. “You think I want to be respectful to him?”
Swallowing, I start stepping back. “He’s your brother.”
“Yeah,” he rumbles, his face dipped as he keeps gaining on me. “And he put his fucking ring on your finger.”
My heart’s racing. “The ring that you won’t give back.”
“Because why should he get everything, huh? Why the fuck,” he bites out, leaning down farther, “should he get every fucking thing in this world?”
“But—”
“He gets to fucking marry you, doesn’t he?” he cuts me off. “He gets to make all your childish dreams of love come true. He can live without you wearing his fucking ring on your finger for a few fucking weeks.”
“Love is not childish,” I say, my heart twisting.
“It’s a fucking nuisance, though.” He leans closer. “A nuisance I don’t fucking need right now. Like you.”
A second later, my back collides with the wall and I say, my breaths harsh, “You know you sound completely irrational right now, don’t you?”
His jaw tics for a few seconds. “Yes.”
“So—”
“But you’re still not getting the ring back.”
I look up, my fingers pulling and twisting the hem of his coat. “What am I supposed to tell him?”
“Tell him you lost it.”
“He’s doing this for me, okay? He put this ring on my finger because he’s helping me and—”
“He’ll live.”
“You’re being completely—”
“Irrational, I know.”
“You…” I shake my head. “I don’t even know how we got here. I didn’t come here for the ring.”
Although it occurs to me that I should have.
That I may have to think of something to get it back from Stellan. So I can give it back to Shepard when I break things off.
“So then why in the fuck did you come here?” he growls.