Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
I rub the bridge of my nose. What the hell is she talking about? I defended her—and myself—because Kamal was out of line. I say as much, but she stubbornly shakes her head
“I’m not doing this anymore, okay, Fitz? You prefer to remain invisible. Well, look what happened down there—the most visible thing ever!”
She’s right. When Kamal had been screaming and cackling and acting like an overall jackass, I’d felt as if there were a bright spotlight shining on me. I’d sensed the nosy stares and heard the hushed whispers.
But when I told him off, I didn’t care that the whole room was watching and listening. I only cared that Kamal was being rude to Summer, and that was unacceptable to me.
“Do you really want to talk about drama?” I ask her. “Because you’re being a drama queen right now, babe.”
“I am not.”
“Yes, you are. You’re overreacting. Going from zero to breakup without even talking about it.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. You don’t want to be in the spotlight. I invite it. Sometimes intentionally, but most times not.” She makes a frustrated noise. “That job was important to you.”
“It was.” But you’re more important. I don’t say it out loud. Not because keeping my emotions under lock and key is a habit of mine, but because Summer is marching off again, heading for the winding staircase that leads upstairs. The penthouse has three floors—don’t get me started—and her bedroom is on the third.
I hurry after her. “Stop,” I command.
“No.” She keeps going.
“You’re such a brat.”
“You’re such a bully,” she retorts. “I want to be alone. We’re broken up.”
“We’re not broken up!” I yell.
Jesus, I don’t think I’ve raised my voice more than ten times my entire life, and now a couple of months with Summer and I’m on my way to yelling myself hoarse. She brings out a growly, primal side of me I hadn’t known existed until she showed up and started driving me batshit crazy.
And…I frickin’ love it.
I’ve spent years fighting so hard to avoid conflict. I let my folks spew their poison about each other because it’s easier than the arguments and guilt trips that ensue if I try to make them see the light. I avoid social situations because I don’t want any attention on me.
I date chicks who are as introverted as I am, because then they don’t expect me to cut loose at parties or attend extravagant events like leukemia charity galas.
I didn’t mind that existence. It’s been nice and comfortable. Conflict-free.
But I never felt truly alive until Summer.
I don’t want to be with a woman who hides in the shadows with me, because that enables me to keep hiding. And that’s what I’ve done for years—hidden pieces of myself from my parents, my friends, chicks, the world. I want someone who encourages me to step out of my comfort zone, and Summer is that someone.
She drives me nuts. She does crazy shit like pull a girl’s hair at a bar for calling her a slut. She feels up half-naked football players in our living room. She does cute little ballet jumps when she’s making breakfast in our kitchen.
And yes, she makes me lose my temper sometimes, but I make her lose hers.
It’s part of the fun.
“I’m going upstairs, Fitz. You can sleep on the couch or in Dean’s room or any of the other rooms. But not mine, because we’re broken up.”
“Say that one more time. I fucking dare you.”
She stops at the foot of the staircase and turns around. Her green eyes glitter with fortitude. “We’re brok—”
I lunge forward.
She throws up her hands. “Don’t you dare!”
Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. I grab her by the waist and heave her wriggling body over my shoulder, clamping a hand over her ass. “We’re going to sit down and talk about this,” I growl, spinning toward the living room.
“There’s nothing to talk about! Put me down!” She manages to wrench herself free, her bare feet slapping the marble floor when they make contact with it.
“Would you listen to me? We’re not breaking up. It’s not happening, Summer. I don’t give a shit about the job at Orcus Games. I give a shit about you. That bastard was rude to you. He was rude to both of us, and I refuse to work for someone who treats people with disrespect or behaves that way in public. I put him in his place, and if I had the choice, I’d do it all over again, you hear me? Because he was a jackass to you, and I love you.”
Summer’s breath catches. “That’s…” She gulps. “That’s the first time you’ve ever said that.”
“Well, it’s true. I love you. You’re my girlfriend—”
“Was your girlfriend.”
“Are.”
“Was.”
I wrap my arms around her waist and tug her against me. When she gasps, I know she feels the erection pressing into her belly. “You can argue till you’re blue in the face, but we both know we’re not breaking up.” My hand slides under her dress to caress her smooth thigh. “And we both know you love me too.”