Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
I change into my pajamas and order pasta. I eat more than I should, and when my tears drip into my pillow, I don’t count them because my face is buried in the fabric. If they never meet the air then they don’t exist, right?
Chapter 31
Gaige
I’m not surprised she turned down dinner.
She’s not said a word to me all day since she declared it work only.
I didn’t want to upset her more, so I kept my damn mouth shut. Yet, as the day progressed, it seemed like giving her exactly what she wanted only pissed her off more. Women are so fucking complicated.
I opt for the bar instead of dinner. I dine alone often, but doing it with Leighton upstairs just seems stupid. A liquid diet seems like the best idea ever after a shitty day, but I still keep it to a two-drink maximum. Three may have me knocking on her door because I stupidly gave her both of her damn door keys.
When the women start swarming, I itch to pull the gold band out of my pocket, but I remember I lost it somewhere in Texas.
I settle my tab and walk out of the hotel, waving off the guy out front when he asks if I need a cab. I stand on the sidewalk, wondering just what in the hell I’m doing with my life. I need help. I need answers. I know the solution to my problems, and she’s upstairs, but there are roadblocks leading to her, ones she’s putting up, and I don’t know how to knock them down. Hell, I don’t know if she’s even receptive. I don’t know if she’s interested.
I didn’t think she was, but I saw the picture Tyler took and posted to his Instagram account. She wasn’t pretending in that picture. She was as lost in me as I was in her. No one existed in that moment but us. She wasn’t playing a role. That wasn’t her part of the deal. She may not be in love with me but she’s fucking close. I did something or said something to fuck it up, to make her pull back, and until I figure out what it is and fix it, I’m stuck.
I pull out my phone, scrolling through my options.
I could call Wren, but I already know what his advice would be. He’d tell me to tie her up, duct tape her mouth, and only take it off to choke her with my cock until she agrees to hear me out. I get the feeling that Leighton wouldn’t agree to those terms, but my dick seems to think trying it would be worth it.
I shake my head and take a few more steps further away from the hotel.
I hit call on Tyler’s contact. He seems out of breath when he answers. “Hey, bro. What’s up?”
“I fucked up with Leighton.”
“Already?”
He pants again, then groans.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Don’t ask.” The phone seems like it’s further away when I hear, “Aw fuck, do that again.”
“Jesus, Tyler. Did you answer the phone while getting head?”
I hear a long drawn-out moan. “Feel how deep that one is, Bree? Can you work it out? Harder. Yeah. That’s it. What did you say, Gaige?”
“Are you getting head?”
“Fuck, I wish. Deep tissue massage. I’m helping one of the students learn some new techniques.”
“Roll over,” I hear a woman say, her voice far from professional. “I’ll do your quads. Let me grab some more oil.”
“Hey, turn the camera toward us so we can evaluate your technique later,” my brother says.
“That girl’s going to end up on your dick,” I mutter.
“From your mouth to God’s ears,” he whispers. “What do you need?”
“Help with Leighton.”
“Look what I found, Dr. Ward.”
“Orgasms,” he hisses into the phone. “Oh, this is a naked massage?”
The call drops.
So fucking helpful. I grip my phone in my hand, barely holding on to the thing instead of throwing it across the damn street.
I hang my head as I place the next call. It may be opening up too many doors, ones I may have trouble closing later, but I couldn’t not try to win this girl over or back. Hell, I have no idea where I stand right now.
“Gaige?”
“Hi,” I say into the phone.
“Is something wrong?”
“Everything is fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“No.”
“Is it work?”
“No.”
“Is it family?”
“No.”
“Then it’s Leighton.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Already?”
“Lala.” I groan.
She chuckles, her laughter a tinkle in my ear that would normally make me smile.
“Help me.”
“How mad is she?”
“She won’t even talk to me.”
“Will she stay in the same room with you?”
“Only because we have to work together.”
“And when the workday is over?”
“She’s gone. Wouldn’t have dinner with me.”
“Have you tried talking with her?”
“She said work only.”
“Did she tell you she hates you?”
“No.”
“What did she say when you told her you loved her today?”
I’m silent.
“You did tell her that today, right? Women need to hear it every day.”