Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
I watched her for a minute, taking in the way she held herself. She was ashamed of what I did, which made me fell low, but I thought, mostly… she was hurt. Because it was personal to her now. I couldn’t blame her for the way she felt. We’d started this weekend with a different set of rules: no strings, a smooth parting of ways. And somehow, everything had been flipped on its head. “I’ve only made four films, Grace. Like I told you in the elevator, I don’t exactly enjoy it, but it was always easy enough for me. Before.”
“Before what?” she asked, her gaze rising to meet mine, searching.
“Before you. You’ve changed things for me.” And as the words tumbled from my mouth, I realized how true it was. I had no idea of what that meant exactly, but I couldn’t deny it.
“So what are you going to do then?” she asked quietly.
I scrubbed a hand down my face. “What can I do?” I asked, raising my voice, feeling the anger and frustration of the situation. “I have a two-year contract, and I’m only six months into it. I’ll get sued if I break it. And what the fuck else am I going to do, anyway, Grace? Work at a gas station? I don’t have a college degree. I don’t have any other prospects. The truth is, I don’t have anything to offer you.” The statement caused misery to fall over me like a net. Trapped. I was trapped. I’d never felt more worthless.
Her eyes filled with tears. After a moment she sighed and walked toward me. “I’m sorry. This isn’t fair. I knew what you did and now it must feel like I’m holding it against you. It’s just…it didn’t hurt two days ago. It hurts now.”
“I know. I know, Grace.” My shoulders slumped. This was a no-win situation. I had thought we’d figure out a way to make something work, but how? What? It was true—I had nothing to offer her. She couldn’t deal with what I did and still be a part of my life, and I got that. How would I feel if Grace was going off to make a film with some other guy tomorrow morning? I wouldn’t care that it was “work”; it would freak me the fuck out. I’d be sick and jealous at the thought of anyone touching her the way I had.
I had told her that we were friends, and we were, but we were more too—what exactly, I wasn’t sure and there was no way for us to explore any of it. The fact that we lived in two different cities was the very least of our challenges.
And as far as my job, I had few to no good options aside from what I was doing right in the moment. I had spent a lot of money in Vegas, not that I’d tell her that, and I needed the contract installment that tomorrow’s shoot would bring to replenish my bank account.
“Isn’t there anything else you’ve thought of doing?” she asked warily. “I mean, surely you couldn’t have planned to do this forever.”
“I don’t have a plan, Grace! You’re the one with the plan!” I yelled, hating myself, so filled with regret and frustration that I lashed out at her.
Her lip trembled. She was obviously holding back tears. I wanted to make it better for her, but I couldn’t. I was worthless and powerless and the girl I cared about was standing in front of me trying not to cry, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes very briefly. “I don’t want to lose you, buttercup, but I don’t have a plan,” I said miserably. “I’m so sorry, so sorry.” I raked both hands through my hair, grimacing and turning away from her.
“Come to DC, Carson. Stay with me. We can figure something out.” I turned to face her. “Maybe you could enroll in college there…or…” She trailed off, her eyes losing the look of hope that had been in them a moment before. Now she was frowning and looking sad and uncertain.
I studied her. My sweet buttercup. “I can’t stay on your couch mooching off of you, Grace. If this”—I waved my arm around the room indicating where we had started—“was an unlikely way for anything real to begin, that situation would be the worst idea in the history of bad relationship ideas. What would your dad think? Your sisters? I wouldn’t do that to you—to us.” Plus, whether I liked it or not, I was still tied to that damn contract. I had a job to do in the morning, and then as many as they booked me for in the next year and a half.