Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 67711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
He’d refused to budge at all, saying his client—aka his best friend—would never agree to a settlement unless my client met all his demands. If my client was going to agree to that, she would have given in before Montgomery officially filed his suit.
Once it was clear Ford wasn’t going to negotiate with me—yet—I should have left. Instead, I’d ordered us a bottle of whiskey, and we’d talked about everything but the case. It was the best damn night I’d had in months, maybe longer.
Why did Ford have to be so fucking charming?
Remember, he was drunk.
Not at first.
I’d kept pouring for him, telling myself I wanted to get him drunk so he would spill some secrets. But really, I just hadn’t wanted him to leave. I never talked to anyone who was just a friend, not that Ford was my friend, no matter what I’d said to him. I only talked to people about work or had just enough conversation to get down to fucking, except for when I talked to my Gran, my sister, and a man who hated me. How pathetic was that?
You haven’t done a damn thing to make him like you.
I don’t really like him either. I just…need him to lose this case.
You’re just lonely and apparently bisexual.
No that’s not…even if I want to be friends with him, I don’t want….
To fuck him? To hold him down and shove your dick inside him? To make him beg?
No! I’d love to force him to admit I was as good as he was at more than tennis—not that he even admitted to that—but I don’t want to sleep with him.
A flash hit me from my dream: Ford, his body pinned against my car like it had been against the cab last night. His lips soft under mine, the stubble on his face scratching me as I kissed him. His dick hard against my stomach as I ground into him, making him groan. “More, Jay, I need more.”
Fuck. I was sweating, my hands were shaking. It was just a dream. It wasn’t real.
That was when I realized my boxers were stuck to me and the bed under me was wet. What the hell? I’d had a fucking wet dream for the first time in a decade, and it was about a man.
I couldn’t be that confused, could I? Had I been harboring some secret love for men all along?
No. I’d never thought about a man like I did Ford. I had to have some weird obsession with him because he was so fucking perfect. He had everything anyone could want. He was beautiful and smart and—
Shit. That wasn’t helping. This was not the time to challenge everything I knew about myself. I needed to focus on work and on Gran.
But thinking about Gran only made me depressed, and thinking about work only led me to thinking about Ford.
Why the hell did he have to be the one representing Montgomery? And why hadn’t I thought about it before agreeing to take the case, not that I really could have refused. This was another fucking test from the senior partners. Like I hadn’t been through plenty already.
I’d barely managed to drag myself out of bed when my doorbell rang. What the fuck was someone doing here this early? And how had they gotten all the way up to my apartment?
I shucked my dirty boxers and pulled on some sweats and a T-shirt. When I looked through the peephole, I saw Emily.
She must have managed to rebook herself on an earlier flight. I opened the door and ushered her in. After we hugged, she took a step back and gave me a concerned once-over. “You don’t look so good.”
“Thanks.”
“Are you hungover?”
I might as well fess up. “Yes, dammit. I went out with Ford last night.”
“Ford? The guy from the tennis league? The one you like?”
“I don’t like him.”
She raised her brows. “I think you do.”
“What the fuck, Emily? I’m not gay.”
Her eyes went wide. “Oh. So you like him, like him.”
“What?” Panic rushed through me. Why had I said that?
“I thought you admired him, but you really like him.”
“No, I don’t. Didn’t you hear what I just said.”
“I heard what your words said, but…” she smiled. “You’re the one who went and brought up being gay.”
“But I’m not. I don’t like men like that.”
“Why not?”
“What do you mean why not?” Had she already thought I was?
“Are you afraid to like men?”
“No, I just don’t. I’m just not wired that way. I never….”
“Until now.”
I dropped onto the couch and put my head in my hands.
Emily sat beside me and ran a hand up and down my back. “So you like him. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“That’s not what Dad would have said, or Gran.”
“Give Gran more credit than that.”
I sighed. “I don’t need to worry about it, because nothing is going on with Ford.”