Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90894 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90894 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
It wouldn’t be that hard to believe. Sitting next to Marco on the subway, even I had to admit that we looked more like a couple than Graham and I ever did. With his olive skin, spiked dark hair, Italian horn around his neck, and bulging biceps, he was more like Pauly D. from Jersey Shore than a man who commanded a boardroom. In all honesty, before Graham, he was my type. Although not Marco, specifically. We’d known each other way too long for that.
Marco was Tig’s cousin; we’d all been friends since we were kids. Even though I hadn’t seen him in a few years, I knew he would do me the favor of pretending to be my boyfriend. When Tig called him down to the shop on Monday, he’d agreed to do it even before I’d explained the circumstances.
“You okay, dollface?” Marco squeezed my knee.
“Just nervous.”
“You want to go over what you want me to say if he shows, again?”
“No.” I forced a smile. “We have the plan down.”
So I thought.
But what I didn’t plan for was Graham standing outside of my building before I even got there. He was leaning against his car, looking down, texting on his phone. Luckily, I saw him before he saw me. Jumping into panic mode, knowing what was about to happen, I quickly grabbed Marco’s hand. When Graham looked up and saw me, I actually watched the moment I broke his heart play out on his face. Even from halfway down the block, his eyes lit up for a split second when he caught sight of me. That light was quickly extinguished when he saw the tall, dark, tatted hipster I was holding hands with.
My heart was completely eviscerated seeing the hurt in his eyes. I’d practiced the things I would say to him over and over a thousand times, yet when he stormed to us on the street, I was unable to speak.
“Soraya? What the fuck?”
I stared down at the sidewalk, unable to look Graham in the eyes. Marco figured out what was going on and jumped in to ad lib.
“You must be Grant. Soraya told me there was a possibility you could show up before she had a chance to talk to you.”
“Talk to me about what? Soraya? What the fuck is going on?” Graham was practically screaming at this point.
“Dude. Calm down. She was going to tell you. We just talked about it last night at dinner.”
“At dinner? Last night? Soraya! Answer me. What the hell is going on?”
When I didn’t respond and still didn’t look at him, Graham reached for me. Playing the part of a protective boyfriend came naturally to Marco. He stepped partially in front of me and got in Graham’s face.
“Dude. I’m only going to warn you once. Keep your hands to yourself, and don’t touch my girl. I don’t want to have to kick your pretty boy ass out here on the street.”
“Your girl?”
Everything happened so quickly after that. Graham took a step back, then began to turn away, only to rear back and throw all of his weight behind a punch that slammed into Marco’s jaw. A loud cracking sound made acid rise up my throat, and for a second, I thought I was going to vomit right there on the street. I wasn’t immediately sure if the sound was Marco’s jaw or Graham’s hand breaking. My heartbeat was pulsing so loudly in my ears; for all I knew it could have been the sound of my own heart shattering.
Marco staggered back a few steps, his hand going to his jaw in an attempt to ease the pain. But I’d grown up watching Tig and Marco brawl, and I knew a little thing like a broken jaw was not going end this fight. Before I could get between them, Marco lunged at Graham. The two men collided, and Marco slammed Graham up against a parked car.
“Stop!” I’d finally managed to speak. “Please, stop! Marco, no!”
Graham somehow managed to toss Marco aside, and then he was standing in front of me, his chest heaving up and down, knuckles split and bleeding. Without thinking, I reached out for his injured hand. “Graham.”
He pulled away from my touch as if it was fire. “Say it, Soraya.”
I looked down.
“Say it! Tell me you’re a fucking cheater and I’m a God damn idiot. Because even though I’m seeing it right in front of my eyes, I still don’t want to believe it.”
Tears rolled down my face. I couldn’t look at him.
When he spoke again, his voice was low and pained. He sounded broken. “Look at me, Soraya. Look at me.”
I finally mustered the courage to raise my head. Staring into his eyes, tears streaming down my face, I told him the absolute truth. “I’m so sorry, Graham.”
His eyes closed for a moment before he turned, got into his car, and drove away without another word. I watched, sobbing, until I could no longer see a trace of his car.