Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 138904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
It was different with Vicki. With her it was all about sating a never-ending hunger. He couldn’t allow himself the luxury of enjoying her companionship. Because every time he forgot himself—like he had on Wednesday night—he found it harder to keep her at a safe distance.
And here he was, thinking about her again, wondering if she was still chatting with Teddy. And if she was enjoying his company. Teddy, who could offer her the normal relationship that Ty was so fucking intent on withholding from her.
He listened to Chance enthuse about the upcoming rugby test match. Ty didn’t much care for the sport but knew enough to keep the conversation going.
An hour later—desperate to escape his thoughts of Vicki—he happily left his apartment for the distraction of a pub.
She didn’t come to him that night. Or the following night. Or any other night for the next two weeks. And Ty told himself he didn’t care enough to ask why.
But that was a lie, because he’d lay awake every night, waiting…hoping she would come. Hating that he wanted to ask her why she was staying away. Hating even more that he didn’t ask.
It wasn’t that she was working longer hours—with the weather getting cooler, business was marginally less frenetic, and they kept more normal hours. It wasn’t even that she was seeing Teddy, he would know if she was. Because he would be forced to accompany her on any dates she had with the man. Chance hadn’t mentioned her seeing the guy on Ty’s days off. And Chance was an inveterate, unapologetic gossip—he would definitely say something if Vicki was dating Teddy.
It had been a very quiet Monday, and the day was just about over. Jasper and Linda had tidied the shop, Josh was on his final delivery of the day—he would head straight home afterward—and Vicki was in her office paying the bills.
Ty folded his newspaper and stretched his legs.
“What are your plans tonight, Ty?” Jasper asked with a grin. The guy was a massive flirt, all fluttering lashes, and charming smiles.
“Depends on the boss lady. If she heads straight home, I’ll probably meet Chance for a drink somewhere.”
“You and Chance bro’ing it up in a pub somewhere?” Jasper fanned himself. “Be still, my jaded heart. You know, if you were TV characters, I’d totally be ’shipping you guys, right?”
Ty snorted. He’d only recently learned—thanks to Jasper—what the fuck ’shipping meant. “Please, he’d drive me crazy in days. He talks too damned much. And I’ve seen his place…so many socks scattered across too many surfaces. I couldn’t live like that. Why the hell would you wish that on me, Jazz?”
Jasper laughed, then pouted. “Allow me my fantasies, Ty-gurrrr.”
Ty liked the guy. He was entertaining as hell. He liked everyone in this shop, and it was hard to imagine saying goodbye to these people in just a month’s time and likely never seeing them again. He enjoyed their banter and camaraderie and had started to feel like part of their mismatched gang.
He was going to miss them.
A lot.
And if it was hard to imagine never seeing them again, he couldn’t even begin to contemplate the thought of not starting every day in Vicki’s company. Of not seeing what pretty dress she was wearing, or inhaling her sumptuous fragrance, or hearing her laughter. Not watching her expressive face reveal every single emotion while she FaceTimed with her mother in the car on the drive to the shop.
He viciously shut down his sentimental thoughts. He was being ridiculous. He had lost people before and…
Damn it.
This would not be a loss. He refused to think of it as such. He was moving on. Advancing his career. It was a good thing.
Their paths would diverge. It was life. And one of the reasons he no longer sought to make bonds. People left. Sometimes of their own volition and sometimes because the decision had been taken from them. By illness. Or a drunk driver. Or a bullet.
Ty had long ago decided that he was no longer interested in relationships, or friendships, or family. He was content to drift through this life alone.
It had worked for him.
But recently, he found himself getting sucked into these groups…these friendships and relationships that he knew were doomed.
Jasper left him to his brooding thoughts and was laughing at something Linda had said. The young man was shrugging into his jacket—it was still unseasonably warm during the days, but the evenings had a distinct chill to them now—and Linda was reaching for her bag. They both popped into the office to wish Vicki goodnight, then left in flurry of waves, and happy goodbyes.
Ty was in the process of locking up, when a thin guy—mid-twenties, bad complexion, and lank hair—banged on the glass door.
“We’re closed, buddy,” Ty shouted through the door, flipping over the sign to emphasize the point.