Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“Did you ask her to stay?” Jessa asks, and when she goes for another piece of my food, I smack her hand. “Ow!”
“No, I knew she couldn’t anyway.”
“You sure about that?”
“Positive. She mentioned several times that she needed to network and make connections in big cities to build her career. Considering we’re in a small-ass town, this place wouldn’t be ideal for a professional artist.”
“So you’re just going to let her slip away because of geography?”
I roll my eyes. “Wow, I didn’t realize you were a relationship expert.”
“I’m a woman, and I can read you like a book. You’re miserable, and you miss her.”
Of course I fucking do. She invaded my space for nearly three weeks, and we had more sex than I can count. But Oakley meant much more to me than that. We had a solid connection.
“I’ll get over it, eventually,” I say harshly, wanting this conversation to be over.
“Well, in case you wondered, she’s just as sad as you and decided she’s moving out of her apartment.”
“To where?” I blurt out.
“She hasn’t responded yet.”
I shipped her boxes the same week she flew out, so she should’ve gotten them a while ago. There was so much I wanted to say before she left, but I couldn’t get the words out. Instead, I wrote her a letter and put it in one of her boxes.
But who knows when she’ll see it.
And if she’s already read it, she hasn’t texted or called.
I finish my food and put my dishes in the kitchen. When I come out, Jessa’s in my face again.
“You want me to tell you when I find out?” she asks.
“No.”
If Oakley wanted me to know, she has my number.
I finally escape her and go to my truck. Even that has too many memories of her. Along with every inch of my house. I can’t go anywhere on the farm or in town without thinking about her.
It’s fucking torture.
After a long-ass day, I finally call it quits. I worked nonstop, but it did nothing to clear my head like I hoped. If anything, it reminded me of the tours I gave her and when we made love in the orchard.
I’m tempted as hell to call her, but I’m not sure it’d help either of us. We never discussed keeping in contact after she went home. What would be the point? To stay friends? It’d hurt too much to hear about her moving on or dating someone else. I wouldn’t be able to handle it.
As soon as I walk into my house, something’s different. The lamp upstairs is on, and I know I turned it off. I’m tired as fuck, so I might’ve forgotten.
Shrugging off my jacket and kicking off my boots, I make my way to the fridge to grab a beer. If anything, maybe booze can numb me long enough to pass out for a bit.
God knows I need sleep more than anything right now.
I make my way to my room and stop dead in my tracks when I hear sheets rustling.
Someone’s in my bed.
My heart pounds as I stomp up the remaining stairs and I grow anxious at the possibility of Oakley being here. But when my bed comes into view, my anger shoots through the roof.
“What the fuck are you doing, Aspen?”
She’s sprawled out on the covers in nothing but a tiny piece of lingerie.
“Get out,” I bark before she can respond.
“I’m here for you, Finn. Use me to feel better. I know you still have feelings for me. We can get through this little mishap and finally start over.”
I blink hard, wondering if I’m really seeing and hearing this bullshit or if I’m having a nightmare. Standing in front of the bed, I cross my arms and stare her down.
“You’ve crossed the line this time, Aspen. Get the fuck out of my house!”
“Finn!” She rises on her knees. “We used to make love in this bed, too. You can try to replace me with some twentysomething bimbo, but we had something real. You can’t just forget that after three weeks of being with someone else.”
“I don’t know what it’s gonna take for you to understand I don’t want you. My feelings for you are long gone, and nothing you can do or say will change that. What we had is over.”
She lays on the fake tears, and her bottom lip quivers.
“You don’t mean that.”
I throw off my T-shirt and toss it to her. “Cover yourself.”
She lets it fall and doesn’t move to put it on. I roll my eyes as she wipes her dry cheeks. The fake crying is pathetic, even if the old me used to fall for it.
“Finn, please. Give me another chance. We’ll fall back in love like we were if you just tried. Remember all the amazing memories we shared? All the hot sex we had?”