Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 110116 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110116 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
“You have to go with me. I can’t do this alone.” And I’m actually serious. I don’t think I can handle flying for six hours alone.
She shakes her head. When her phone rings and it’s an 818 number, I grab her hand. “Don’t answer.” I squeeze her wrist.
“Ow, stop it.” She takes the phone as I back away, knowing who it is.
“Hello.” Her face pales and I want to scream, Who did you think it was going to be?
“Oh my God, Axel.” She looks at me, her eyes the size of giant blue saucers. “Hi, congratulations… Is Gia here? Um…” She reaches for me, but I step away, shaking my head.
“You have to go with me,” I whisper.
“Gia. Take the phone.” She hands it to me as we both jump at Axel’s voice coming through the phone.
“Give it to me.” I grab it.
“Hey, I’m on my way—”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I have to have Sebastian track you down?” I attempt to talk, but what can I say? So I let him go off. “Do you have any idea what is going on over here? My wedding. That’s what. Now I have no fucking idea what you’re doing in New York instead of being here with Antoinette and the girls like you promised. But I do know you’re getting on the plane today.”
“I had to stop and get Julianna. She’s coming.” I ignore her choking on the margarita.
“Great, I’ll let Rip know to get both of you. Call me with your flight, and Gia?”
“What?” I cringe.
“I’m only saying this once. Do not disappoint me.”
“I won’t. We won’t. I can’t wa— Hello?” I look at her screen. It’s gone black. When I peer up at Julianna, her eyes are watering, and she continues to cough.
“How could you?” She wheezes.
“Stop it. It will be good for you to get some fresh air, get out of New York and all the grayness—”
She grabs her phone and holds it up. “Call him back and tell him I’m not going.”
“You call him.” I motion to the phone. “He’s crazy right now. He told me to tell you not to disappoint him.” So, I’m twisting the truth. It’s actually true—Julianna does need to get out of this apartment.
“I… Gia.” She takes a breath. “I can’t go to a Disciples wedding.” Her eyes are filled with tears.
“Stop. I know what you’re thinking, but this is going to be a super nice wedding. Like Antoinette has spent a fortune on it.”
“That’s not why I can’t go,” she says quickly, picking up her margarita. “I’m insulted you would think that’s why I can’t go.”
My head is pounding, so I either need to sober up and take Advil, or I need to keep drinking, and since I need to fly, I guess I’ll keep drinking.
“Then why? Because I shouldn’t have to beg you. This is fucking pathetic. Do I have to go tit for tat with you? Remember when I rescued you—”
“It’s Ryder, okay? I can’t go because of Ryder.” She blows out air as if that’s been hanging over her for years.
“What?” Trying hard not to freak, I blink at her. Holy fuck… Ryder? And how is she only saying something now?
“It’s not that big of a deal, but I don’t want to see him.” She rubs her face, and all her perfect makeup is not that perfect anymore. Dropping her hands, she looks at me.
I set down my glass and walk to her. “Julianna, I… what is going on? And how is it that this is the first that I’m hearing about this?”
She holds up her hand as if to stop me from getting too close as tears fall from her eyes. I’m floored. In all the time we’ve been friends, I’ve never seen her cry. I’ve cried, but not Julianna.
“Gia… I just… couldn’t tell you. It was a long time ago and… he didn’t…” It’s like the flood gates have been opened and she’s full-on hysterical. It’s hard to understand her.
“Come here.” I hug her. Julianna, the perfect one, the one who’s always sensible, is a fucking mess. And I had no idea.
I grab the blender, forgetting the glasses as I guide us to the kitchen nook area and sit her down, placing the blender in front of her. She looks up and starts to laugh, then cry again, as I take a drink from the side of the glass blender.
“Okay.” I pull out the other antique chair. It’s uncomfortable, but what in this place is comfortable?
“Did something happen when you came to the compound to pick me up?” My voice is gentle, almost coaxing as I put this all together. She nods.
“And you have kept this inside for eight years?”
She nods again.
I take another sip from the blender, starting to feel the wonderful tequila take away my pain. Unfortunately, it also takes away my filter.