Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Louisa: Can’t wait to see you. I’m hungry. For you. And, I guess, some lo mein.
I grin from ear to ear as I head toward the shop. Cruz is right. I can’t truly fall for this girl and give her my heart until I let go of what broke it. I feel my heart start beating harder the closer I get to the shop. When I pull up beside Louisa’s Nissan Rogue, I put my truck in park and reach for my phone. I find Mikayla’s number, and I stare at it for a few before hitting it.
I feel my body going into panic mode. My skin tingles, my heart is racing, and I feel like I’m going to puke. My chest tightens when her voice fills the line.
“Hello?”
Instantly, I’m taken back to the moment she told me her daughter wasn’t mine, but her neighbor Wyatt’s instead. She was wearing a USA tank top and short shorts that showed off her thin legs. Her bright-blond hair was in a slicked-back ponytail. She was beautiful, America’s girl, and I mean that in every sense of the word. She slept with all of Michigan, while convincing me she loved me.
“Mikayla, it’s Ciaran.”
She gasps. “CC! Hey!” Her nickname for me makes me cringe. I wasn’t a fan back then, but I loved her, so I went with it. Now, though, I never want to hear it again. “It’s so good to hear your voice!”
“Let me be clear. This isn’t a call to reconcile. I’m calling to tell you to leave my mom alone,” I demand, my hand shaking against the wheel. “Don’t go to her house. Don’t call her. Leave her alone.”
“I mean, I only contacted her to get to you.”
“Stop,” is all I can get out before I clear my throat. “I have nothing to say to you. I don’t want you, I don’t want to see you, hear your voice, or even be in the same room as you. You broke me, Mikayla. Into pieces.”
“I was young. Like, come on, we were good together.”
I’m speechless at her retort. With the restraint of a saint, I bite out, “Mikayla, you slept with twelve different dudes while I was gone for a season. That’s basically a dude a month.”
“Like I said, I was young. I’ve grown, and my love for you hasn’t ever stopped.”
“We have two very different definitions of love,” I explain. “When I love someone, I could never hurt them how you hurt me. I would never lie the way you lied. Deceived, betrayed… I mean, hell, Mikayla, you put me through the wringer.”
“I wouldn’t do it again,” she tells me with a laugh that sets my teeth on edge. “Give me a chance.”
“A chance?” I ask, and the laugh I release isn’t one of humor. “You told me you were pregnant—”
“I never said it was yours.”
I close my eyes, the grief of that moment swamping me again. “No, but you should have. And waiting a month was appalling.”
“I was confused. I wanted you to be the dad.”
“You’re a con artist,” I snap. “You only want pleasure and money and go from guy to guy until you drain them, and then you move on.”
“Oh my God, don’t be dramatic. It wasn’t like that, and you know it. I love you.”
“You love what I can give you,” I throw back, my hatred for her growing. “You never loved me.”
“That’s not true! I do love you. You’re just kind of boring. Like, always reading and never wanting to go out. I want to have fun, do things—”
“Exactly,” I say, cutting her off. “You want to spend my money and show off. I don’t want that.”
“No, you’d rather read and get lost in a world you could have if you went out.”
“I don’t want to go out. I don’t need to go out. I’m good. But really, this is neither here nor there. I will never allow you to do that to me.”
“You’re making a mistake.”
“No, I’m dodging a bullet. Though, even if I hadn’t found the girl of my dreams, I wouldn’t have given you another chance.”
I’m met with silence. “You’re dating someone?”
“I am, and I’m happy,” I stress. “Listen to me, Mikayla. I moved on, I mourned you, and now I’ve found someone who has given me more in a week than you did in four years.”
She scoffs. “If you’re trying to make me jealous—”
“I have no intention or desire to do any such thing. I don’t want anything to do with you. I don’t even want you to want me. You are dead to me.”
I can tell my words sting by how venom laces her tone. “Whatever. You’ll come crawling back.”
“I won’t,” I promise. “Not when I’m fully put back together and ready to love again.”
With that, I hang up and promptly block her number. I lean back in the seat, letting out a heavy breath, and I notice Louisa is coming out the back door. Her brows are creased with concern as she approaches the truck. I throw the door open, and she comes up beside me as I meet her worried gaze.