Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
“Whatever, Tyler.” My lips press together. “You know Allie said you might be struggling. That you might actually have a complex about your father that keeps you from feeling anything real. I don’t believe that for a minute. You were this way before he ever did what he did to Allison.”
His eyes sharpen, the sea-blue darkening to a navy color. “What feelings do you want me to have, Bella?”
“Any feelings, Tyler, would be better than none. But what you feel or don’t feel has nothing to do with a paid employee, which is what I am.” It’s out before I can stop it but I don’t even regret it. I don’t even feel like a friend, let alone more. And I did before all of this. “I need to go deal with Dash.” I try to step away and he catches my elbow.
Electricity charges up my arm and across my chest, puckering my nipples. Why are my nipples so in tune with this man? Our eyes collide in a punch of awareness that steals my breath. “Don’t,” I whisper. “My brother’s here. And I’m not yours to touch, Tyler. I didn’t sign your agreement. Remember?”
He flinches, as if he really cares when we both know he doesn’t. “Damn it, Bella,” he murmurs, and then he releases me, settling his hands on his hips, under his jacket.
I hate how much a part of me wishes he’d have held on.
“What did you say to Dash?” I ask.
“I didn’t tell him about us, Bella, but he knows. He can feel it between us. We made it pretty obvious last night.”
“I told him it was work-related.”
“All right,” he says and that’s all he says. Just all right.
I dislike that answer for reasons I can’t name.
“But he’s not stupid,” he adds. “We’re on fire together and you know it.”
I do know, but I don’t say that.
And he’s right. Dash is not stupid. But he only thinks he knows what’s going on.
I should be walking away right now. I have my answers. I need to keep a distance from Tyler, but I don’t walk away. I don’t know why, but I’m just still, standing here, lost in whatever this pull is between me and this man. Sex, I tell myself. It’s all about sexual attraction, and that is not a reason to lose everything.
With a pull of air into my lungs, I rotate away from him and I do what saves me from complete destruction. I walk away.
Chapter Fifteen
Bella
My brother’s little corner booth allows him a nice cushiony seat and there is a chair to his left, right, and across. When I arrive at my brother’s table, I ignore the seat across from him I favor and sit to his right instead.
He chuckles. “I take it you figured out Tyler is here?” He shuts his computer and offers me his full attention.
I, in turn, scowl at him. “You could have warned me.”
“I tried. You had to pee and eat, which was the story of our childhood, by the way. Also, you didn’t order food.” As if on cue, the waitress sets a cupcake down next to Tyler’s sandwich.
“That looks delicious with all that fluffy white icing,” I say wistfully. “I really love the icing on the cupcakes here.”
“Go order.”
“I’ll get it to go. I have another meeting soon, anyway.”
Dash grabs the cupcake and sets it in front of me. “He can order another. If you don’t eat, we all die.”
Considering Tyler is headed in this direction with his arrogant, long-legged stride, and that somehow renews my anger, I decide he’s right. Tyler claims his seat, and I feel the pulse of his presence, damn him. I reach for Dash’s unused fork. I use it to point at the cupcake and then at Tyler. “You can order another,” I say, just in case he wonders if this is his or not.
Tyler smirks and then sets his sandwich in front of me. “You might as well take it all. We all know you’re a bitch when you don’t eat.” Then, for an extra little jab, he goes all in and places his coffee cup in front of me. “You’re also better company when you have caffeine.” He then has the nerve to stand up and walk toward the counter.
“Asshole,” I whisper, though a part of me thinks he was kind of gentlemanly, even if we both painted it otherwise. I mean I do get really weird when I don’t eat, and while after five years he should know that about me, I didn’t think he actually did.
Dash shifts in his seat to eye me. “Why is he so comfortable giving you his food? And how does he know you’re a bitch when you don’t eat?”
In this case, the answers he demands are really not awkward at all, nor do they require any real thought. “I’ve worked with him five years, Dash.”