Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
On the third attempt, he answers. “Date over so soon? Hope it didn’t end on my account.”
“Where are you?” I hiss.
And that’s when my eyes land on him, leaning against the black SUV with his bodyguard, Justin, standing next to him.
“Don’t you move!” I hang up and stalk over to him, watching as he pockets his phone, and his eyes jump up to meet mine.
“What the hell is your problem?” I say once I get over to him.
“Maybe you should’ve mentioned you moved on, then I wouldn’t have intruded.” He shrugs, all cockily, like he’s got this all figured out.
“For your information,” I say slowly, “that was the owner of Evolution PR.”
His mouth pops open slightly.
“For a guy who’s so big on communicating, you’re seriously the shittiest communicator there is.” I poke my finger against his chest. “That was a potential interview, and you just ruined it because you wouldn’t listen to me. So maybe, the next time, before you bitch at other people for not communicating, take a look at yourself.”
I back up and hit him with one more glare. “Because of you, I lost a job opportunity, so thanks.” And because this seems to be our thing, I walk away without waiting for him to respond.
Not wanting to intrude on Cam’s homecoming, I go for a walk through Central Park, stopping and sitting on the bench so I can search for job listings on my phone. I apply to several places, even some I don’t really want but will take if it means getting my foot in the door, and then send an email to Ralph’s secretary, asking for the recommendation letter I was promised since it can’t hurt to have.
Once I’ve sent it, I turn off my phone and people watch, trying to get lost in the beauty and craziness of the city so I can forget about how messed up my life is. When I was growing up and imagining what my life would be like, I never thought I would be so lost at my age.
When I was little, I imagined becoming a wife and a mom. When I got a little older and would sit with my dad, working with him for hours, I imagined going to college and becoming a marketing badass. When he got injured and turned to drugs and drinking, I imagined escaping to college and eventually following in his footsteps—pre-injury. I wanted to make him proud and show him what he was missing out on.
And when he left and my mom found new love, starting a new family, I imagined starting my own. Creating a life and a home that I felt happy and welcome in.
Yet here I am, about to turn twenty-five years old, living in my best friend’s home, and once again feeling like an outsider. It’s not her fault, and if Layla knew how I felt, she would do everything in her power to make me feel at home. But the truth is, there’s nothing she can do because when I see her and Camden and Felix, I don’t want to be a part of their family. I want what they have. I want my own house and my own husband who loves me. I want our own kids, our own family. I want a kick-ass career, to go to work and then come home and have someone to discuss my day with.
The problem is, every time I imagine it—the husband, the children, the house, the love—I only see it with one man: Braxton. So many times over the years, I attempted to move forward, went on dates, tried to envision it, but nobody ever fit into that picture but him.
I want him, in the house, with the kids. I want little hazel-eyed babies running around. I want date nights and rides on the motorcycle he told me he bought because he loved his dad’s. I want family trips and hot sex... God, sex with Braxton is so damn good. And the way he loves to hold me afterward like he can’t get enough...
I don’t realize tears are running down my face until the liquid slides down my chin and along my neck. I swipe them away, hating how emotional I am when I did this to myself.
When the sky looks like it’s going to burst with raindrops, I reluctantly head home, where I find Layla and Camden cuddling on the couch with Felix spread out on the floor, all of them watching a movie—like the cute, perfect little family they are.
Because Layla didn’t fuck everything up like I did.
“Hey, you’re home,” she says, sitting up slightly. “Wanna watch the movie with us? It just started.”
“I have jobs to apply for,” I say, plastering a smile on my face.
As if she can sense my unease, she simply nods. “Okay, well, if you change your mind...”